Change
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! Joe becomes a pawn in a Mafia power struggle. Warning: This story is a continuation of three previous ones: The Rescue, Mistaken Destiny and Part of the Family.
1. Chapter One

"Hi, Joe," Camille Lane greeted seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy as he entered homeroom at Bayport High School.

"Hi. Camille, right?" he asked, tilting his blond head and looking at her questioningly through intense blue eyes.

"Right," Camille answered, her green eyes twinkling. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I mean, you were absent Monday and Tuesday."

"I'm fine," Joe answered, sitting down in the vacant chair next to the pretty redhead. "I was helping my dad with some stuff."

"Oh. Then you have two weeks of after school classes so you can make up for them," Camille said, a look of disappointment on her creamy face.

"They were excused," Joe said, wondering why the new girl seemed to be so concerned.

"That's right," put in seventeen-year-old Callie Shaw from behind Joe. "They couldn't very well punish him for helping to stop a saboteur at NASA."

"What?" gasped Camille.

"Joe's dad is a detective," Callie explained. She knew all about Joe because he was her boyfriend's year younger brother. "Joe and Frank help their dad out on occasion and solve mysteries on their own too," she added.

Camille's interest in Joe may not have captured Joe's notice but Callie had spotted it the girl's first day at Bayport High. She knew Joe had been avoiding the opposite sex since his girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, had broken up with him and moved to Japan with her mother. Joe had dated one girl since Vanessa's departure but that had turned into a disaster when it was discovered she was the daughter of the head of the Mafia.

"Are you Joe's girlfriend?" Camille asked, looking at Callie.

Joe snorted as Callie laughed. "No," she replied. "I date Joe's brother, Frank," she explained.

"Then you don't have a girlfriend?" Camille asked Joe.

"No," Joe admitted.

"Are you gay?" Camille asked bluntly, not understanding why the best-looking, and most popular, junior in school was unattached.

Callie laughed hard as Joe turned a deep red. "No," Joe replied stiffly.

"Then why..." Camille began only to be interrupted by Joe.

"I broke up with my girlfriend at the start of summer," Joe explained. "She moved to Japan."

"Good," Camille said relieved. "I mean, I'm glad you're not gay and don't have a girlfriend. Look," she continued. "I'm not the shy type and I've been waiting for two weeks for you to notice me but you haven't."

"I've noticed you," Joe defended himself.

"Then why haven't you asked me out?" Camille demanded point blank.

"I never thought about it," Joe confessed. "I've only dated one girl since Vanessa left and that didn't go over very well."

"So, how about it?" asked Camille.

"How about what?" Joe asked, mystified as Callie tried desperately to hide her giggles behind her hand.

"How about a date?" Camille inquired, a bit exasperated. He was definitely cute, Camille thought. But not overly bright. "There's a new horror flick playing downtown. We could catch the early show?"

"He would love too," Callie answered for him. She knew Frank would push him into the date. He had been worried about the barrier Joe had been constructing around himself since Vanessa left.

"I didn't ask you," Camille said, frowning at Callie.

This time it was Joe who had to smother his amusement. "I'd like that," he said before the two girls could argue. "I can pick you up at five-thirty and we can grab a bite beforehand if you like?"

"Sounds good," Camille agreed. "I live at sixteen eleven Shore Road," she added in a softer voice as the homeroom bell rang and the teacher entered the room.

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"Want to sit with me?" Camille asked Joe, coming up behind him in the cafeteria.

"Love too," Joe answered. "But do you mind if we sit with my brother and our friends?"

"Of course not," Camille answered. "I still don't know that many people here. It will be nice to not have to sit alone."

"You've been sitting alone?" Joe asked in surprise. With flowing red hair past her shoulders, a gorgeous smile and barely a hundred and ten pounds, Joe was surprised she didn't have all the guys crowding around her.

"I'm kind of bossy," Camille confessed. "It tends to put people off."

"I don't think you're bossy," Joe said honestly. "Direct and open, but not necessarily bossy."

"That's what my dad says," Camille said with a grateful smile that flitted away as quickly as it had arrived. "But most people don't like that either."

"I do," Joe said. "Really," he insisted when he saw the skeptical look she wore. "I hate it when people beat around the bush. It's just a waste of time."

"Exactly!" Camille agreed, smiling up at him.

Joe led the way to the center of the cafeteria where his brown-headed brother sat between Callie and Phil. "Hey everyone," Joe said loud enough to be heard over the den of noise in the room. "This is Camille Lane," Joe introduced the girl. "Camille, this is Chet Morton," he began naming the table's occupants from left to right. "Helen Osbourne, Tony Prito, Callie...you know. My brother, Frank. And beside him are Phil Cohen, Karen Black and Biff Hooper."

"Hello," Camille said, sitting down in the vacant chair next to Biff as Joe pulled an empty chair from the table behind him and set it next to Camille's.

"You're in my creative writing class," Helen said, looking at Camille.

"That's right," acknowledged Camille.

"Mr. Freedman is a great teacher," Helen said. "I loved that last assignment he gave us, didn't you?"

"Yes," Camille agreed with a contagious smile. "And I like the fact that freestyle means free, too," she added.

"I know what you mean," Helen said. "I hate when they tell us to just write and then check for spelling and grammar."

"How do you like Bayport?" asked blond and beefy Biff.

"It's okay," Camille answered. "I really haven't seen a lot of it though."

"Why not?" asked Karen, Biff's ebony haired girlfriend.

"I don't have a car and we live pretty far out on Shore Road," Camille explained. "Dad and I have spent most of our time together unpacking so we haven't had a chance to explore."

"We can take care of that," declared Chet. His brown eyes twinkled with delight as he looked from Camille to Joe and back. He was pleased that his friend had found someone. "After school we can start by going to the beach."

"Sounds great," Camille said with an apologetic smile. "But Joe and I have plans for later and my dad is picking me up after school."

"Tomorrow then," Frank said. "Joe can run you home afterwards."

Camille turned to Joe. "Is that alright with you?" she asked him.

"Works for me," Joe agreed.

After lunch the teens headed their separate ways with Callie following Camille to English class. "You didn't have to get Joe's permission to go to the beach tomorrow," Callie told Camille as they made their way down the hall.

"I didn't," Camille replied. "I checked to see if it was okay for him to take me home."

"Frank said he would," Callie pointed out.

"But Frank doesn't have the right to tell Joe what to do," Camille retorted, turning on Callie with a scowl. "Just like you this morning," she continued. "Everyone acts like Joe can't make any decisions of his own."

"No we don't," objected Callie. "Do we?" she asked as she thought about what Camille had said. Camille nodded firmly. "We don't mean too," Callie apologized. "It's just we've been worried about him."

"Why?" Camille demanded. "Just because his girlfriend left? They parted as friends," she pointed out, remembering what she had been told during the course of the day.

"You don't know about Iola, do you?" Callie asked.

"Iola?"

"Chet's sister," Callie explained. "She and Joe were very close."

"Were?" Camille asked. "And why haven't I seen her around?"

"Because she died in a car bombing," Callie answered. "Joe was depressed for ages. It wasn't until he met Vanessa that he started getting back to normal. After Vanessa left, he wouldn't date or even hang out with us without Frank pushing him into it."

"Okay, I kind of understand where you're coming from," Camille stated. "But if you push Joe into a relationship he isn't ready for then he will just get hurt all over again when it ends. And if he isn't ready for one then it will end."


	2. Chapter Two

Joe closed his book and stretched his arms. Unlike most students, he took his time after the final bell because he knew even if he did make it outside first he would still have to wait for the buses to depart before he and Frank could leave the parking lot.

Joe got leisurely to his feet and picked up his book. He exited the room and made his way down the hall to his locker where he exchanged books for the one he actually had homework in.

"Joe, I'm sorry." Joe spun around in surprise to see a contrite Callie Shaw behind him.

Joe raised a hand to his chest and sank back against the stack of lockers. "Callie Shaw apologizing?" he asked in pseudo shock. "My heart can't take it!"

"Joe," Callie said, ignoring Joe's attempt at levity. "Be serious. I'm trying to apologize here."

"For what?" asked Joe, grinning and standing up straight.

"For being pushy this morning," Callie said. "And all the other times I tried to force you to mingle."

"Don't sweat it," Joe told her, touched. "I know you, Frank, and the others only do it because you care."

"Yeah, well, it's still wrong to force you to go out with someone you may not want to," Callie said. "And I'm sorry. I won't interfere again."

"Yes, you will," Joe replied. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides," he added. "No one is forcing me into anything. I like Camille."

"This is cozy," Frank said, rounding the corner and seeing his brother and girlfriend deep in conversation.

Joe quickly wrapped an arm around Callie's shoulders and pulled her close. "You snooze, you lose," he declared, trying to look fierce.

Frank broke out laughing and Joe released Callie. "Seriously, what's the heart to heart about?"

Callie moved to Frank's side and began to speak but Joe interrupted her before she could begin. "I'll meet you outside," he said.

"Sure," Frank agreed before giving Callie his full attention.

Joe stepped outside and walked up the sidewalk to the curve. The student's parking lot was behind the school but Joe had taken the nearest exit choosing to be out in the sunshine. He saw Camille putting her backpack into the trunk of a green Cadillac and waved as he continued up the sidewalk.

Turning to look straight ahead once more, his eyes narrowed as a familiar figure exited the passenger side of a van at the curb. Briefly contemplating turning around and going back inside, he chose instead to forge ahead and meet whatever fate had in store for him.

It took only a minute to reach the curb and when he did he came to a complete standstill and looked Piers squarely in the eyes. "I thought we weren't going to meet like this anymore," Joe quipped.

"I promised to return your motorcycle," Piers replied with a shrug. "And when I first attempted to do so you were out of town."

"Thanks," Joe said, smiling. "You really didn't have to."

"Ah, but you were a part of the family," Piers countered. "It was my duty. And now..."

"And now it is ended," Joe finished for him. "Thank you. And please thank Mr. Sorrel for me."

"I shall," Piers replied, stepping to the back of the van and opening the doors. He reached in and pulled a plank down on which the bike could be rolled out. "It's all yours," Piers said, moving aside for Joe to enter the van.

Joe climbed into the van and put his hands on the bike. He looked up in surprise as the squeal of tires drew his attention to the road. He saw the Cadillac that Camille had gotten into tearing out of the lot going at least three times the allowed rate.


	3. Chapter Three

"Where did that come from?" demanded Frank, coming up behind Joe as he wheeled his bike into the back of their van.

"Piers was waiting with it when I got outside," Joe informed his brother. "Relax," he quickly added, seeing his brother's shoulders stiffen. "It's the last time I'll have any contact with them. He was just returning my bike."

Frank remained quiet but finished helping Joe put the bike in the van. "Want to go to Mr. Pizza?" Frank asked as he climbed behind the wheel.

"I'll pass," Joe declined the offer. "I had better get my homework done since I'm picking Camille up later."

"She's kind of pushy," Frank said, voicing his opinion of her.

"Not really," Joe disagreed with a shake of his head. "She's opinionated, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"As long as you like her," Frank said with a shrug. "Tell mom I'll be home by six"  
"Will do," acknowledged Joe.

"Have fun tonight," Frank said as Joe got out of the van.

"I intend too," Joe replied, closing the door and running up the walk to the steps.

"Hi, Mom!" Joe called out as he entered the house.

"Hi, honey," Laura greeted him, coming into the living room as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "How was school?"

"The usual," replied Joe, walking over to her and leaning down to plant a kiss on her left cheek. "Frank's gone to Mr. Pizza but will be home by six," he continued. "And I've got a date at five with Camille."

"Camille?" demanded Laura, looking up at her son with curious blue eyes.

Joe told his mom what he knew of the new girl at school who had invited him out. "Oh, and Piers returned my motorcycle this afternoon."

"Who?" she asked, her voice lowering and her blue eyes hardening.

"He had it fixed because I was run down when he was supposed to be watching me," Joe quickly explained. "It's the last contact I will have with Sorrel or any of his men."

Laura sighed and shoved a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. Joe and Frank had gotten into trouble for keeping things from her and Fenton and even though Joe obviously hadn't relished telling her or even had to at this point, she was proud of him for doing so. "Do you have any homework?" she changed the subject.

"A little," Joe admitted. "But I can get it done before I leave. Um..can I borrow your car?" he asked, wishing for more than the first time that the insurance they had gotten to replace the van had been enough to get a cheap second car. If only the insurance company had covered all the improvements and customizing he had done to their first van.

"Of course," Laura agreed at once. Like Frank and their friends, she was also glad Joe was dating again.

Joe finished his homework then quickly got ready and left. He arrived at Camille's house on Shore Road a few minutes before five. He parked the car and got out. The brick walkway was lined with flowers and it was obvious the realty agency had gone to great lengths to keep the house and land looking pristine. The two-story brick house must have cost quite a bit, Joe thought. But if the Porsche and Cadillac in the driveway were anything to go by, the Lane's could afford it.

Joe walked up to the front door and lightly tapped the doorbell. He heard a faint chime as his presence was announced. About a minute later, the door was opened by a stout man in his late forties. His hard green eyes were narrowed and his nose was wrinkled in disgust as he looked at Joe. "Go away," he snarled, looking Joe in the eyes.

"My name is..." Joe began but stopped as the man snapped at him.

"I don't care what your name is," he snarled. "I saw the company you keep. Stay away from my daughter."

"But.." Joe tried again.

"Silence!" roared Mr. Lane. "If you come anywhere near my daughter ever again I will have you arrested."

"For what?" demanded Joe in surprise.

"Harassment!" Lane snapped before slamming the door in Joe's face.

Joe stared at the closed door in shock. He was well aware of what Camille's father thought. He only wondered how Mr. Lane had known who Piers was. Taking a deep breath he knocked loudly on the door.

"I'm warning you for the last time!" Mr. Lane snarled, throwing open the door. "Get off of my property!"

"Just let me explain?" begged Joe. "You're upset because you saw Piers returning my bike, right?"

"Returning your bike?" repeated Lane. "And why would he be returning your bike?"

"Because I got hurt while he was guarding me," Joe explained, realizing too late that for the second time he could have worded his explanation better.

"Off my property!" thundered Mr. Lane, again slamming the door in Joe's face.

Joe lifted his fist to knock again and then dropped it in one fluid movement. Perhaps he could explain to Camille the next day at school and she could explain to her father. Of course, he was still curious as to how Camille's father had recognized Piers.

Joe headed back down the walkway to his mom's car, pulling the leys from his pocket as he walked. Without any warning, two men leapt from behind the hedge. A chloroform-drenched cloth covered his face as strong arms wrapped around him. The keys were taken from his hand as he faded into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter Four

Change Chapter Four by hbwgonnabe

Frank pulled the van into the garage and killed the motor. He eyed Joe's motorcycle, contemplating taking it out and parking it in the garage but decided to leave it. He grabbed his backpack from behind his seat and headed inside.

"Hi," Laura greeted Frank as he entered through the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Great," he said, kissing her cheek. "Joe gone already?"

"Yes," acknowledged Laura. "He left around four-thirty. Tell your dad to wash up and come and set the table on your way through."

"Will do," agreed Frank. "Hi, Dad," he said, going into the living room.

"Hello, Frank," Fenton returned the greeting, lying the evening paper down on the coffee table and standing up. "I heard Joe got his motorcycle back."

"He did," acknowledged Frank. "Thankfully, that is the last of that association."

"I couldn't agree more," concurred Fenton.

"Oh, mom said to wash up and go set the table," Frank told him.

"Me?" Fenton asked, his brown eyes shooting wide in disbelief. "You were just in the kitchen."

"Yeah, but I've got trash duty tonight," Frank reminded his father. "So, since Joe's supposed to set the table and he isn't here..."

"I know, I know," Fenton laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. "One chore each day," he repeated the order his wife had decreed when the boys had gotten old enough to help out around the house.

Frank grinned and ran up the stairs. He dropped his backpack on his bed and sat down at his computer. He had just enough time to check his e-mail and print up the paper he had to turn in the next day.

After dinner Frank took out the trash then came in and helped dry the dishes. Soon, all three Hardys were seated in the living room trying to agree on what program to watch.

"How about that new forensics show?" suggested Frank as the phone rang.

"Hold that thought," Fenton told him, reaching for the phone. "Hardy residence," he acknowledged the caller.

"Fenton, this is Ezra," came the voice of Bayport's tall and graying Chief of Police, Ezra Collig.

"Hello, Ezra," Fenton said, his smile faltering. He heard a hint of anxiety in his friend's voice that bothered him. "Is there something I can help you with?" he inquired.

"Is everyone there?" Ezra asked.

"Except for Joe," Fenton answered, causing Laura and Frank to look over at him in concern. "Why?"

"Was he driving Laura's car by any chance?" Ezra asked instead of answering.

"Yes," Fenton said, starting to feel sick. "Frank had the van. Why?" he asked again more sharply. "What's wrong?"

"We found Laura's car abandoned off Shore Road," Ezra informed Fenton. "There was no sign of its occupant or of a struggle."

"How long has it been there?" Fenton snapped, his brown eyes clouding over with worry.

"We can't be sure," the chief replied. "When did Joe leave and where was he going?"

"Hang on," Fenton said as he put the phone on speaker. "Repeat that, please?" he requested.

Collig did so. "Joe had a date with Camille Lane," Frank told the chief. "He was going to pick her up at five." He gave the chief Camille's address. 

"Joe was dating Judge Richard Lane's daughter?" Collig asked in surprise.

"Judge Lane?" inquired Fenton, growing even more concerned. "Isn't he presiding over the Kern case?"

"That's correct," acknowledged Ezra.

"And Piers returned Joe's bike to him today," Fenton said. "Tippoli may believe Joe's on Sorrel's side and was trying to pressure Judge Lane into letting Kern off."

"And snatched Joe to get at Sorrel," Frank put in.

"Or kill him," Laura gasped. 


	5. Chapter Five

"I'm going to Camille's," Frank said after Chief Collig had hung up. "We have to know if Joe made it there."

"If he did then Camille must have been taken as well," Fenton said. "And that would mean they don't think Joe is on Sorrel's side and that would be a very good thing."

"I'll call you as soon as I find out something," Frank said taking off. He didn't like the idea that Camille may have been abducted as well but if she had, then perhaps Joe might still be alive. 'Ah, Baby Brother, how do you keep getting into these messes?'

Frank arrived at the Lane residence a little before nine. He parked the van and hurried up the steps to where an officer was standing by the open front door. "Hello, Frank," Officer O'Neil greeted him. "Con said you would probably show up. Go on inside."

"Thanks," Frank replied and entered the house. He followed the sound of voices to the living room. His heart sank when he saw Camille standing beside Judge Lane whom he recognized from a recent picture in the paper.

"So Joe never made it here?" Frank asked as silence took over the room.

"Actually, he did," Judge Lane said, looking at Frank apologetically. "Sergeant Riley explained the situation to me just now. See, I saw Joe talking to Piers and I assumed Joe was associated with Sorrel. When he arrived to pick up Camille, I sent him away."

"How long ago was that?" inquired Frank.

"Five on the nose," Judge Lane answered. "I looked at the clock after I closed the door on him and started upstairs to talk to Camille. I had no idea the boy that Camille was going to see tonight was the boy I saw talking to Piers earlier and was shocked to see him on my doorstep."

"Daddy!" Camille snapped, a wounded expression on her face. "How could you ever think I would see someone you wouldn't approve of?"

"I'm sorry, honey," he apologized, holding out his arm as she moved close to him.

Camille moved into the circle of her father's arm and looked at Sergeant Riley. "Do you have any idea who might have taken him?"

"Sir," an officer entered the room before Con could respond. He held up a plastic bag with a white cloth inside. "I believe it's had chloroform on it," the officer continued. "Officer O'Neil nearly fell over when he picked it up."

"Where did you find it?" Con asked.

"At the base of the hedge on the side near the road," the officer answered.

"So Joe was grabbed before got back in the car," observed Frank in a grave tone.

"What?" Camille demanded, recognizing fear in Frank's voice.

"It's possible he was kidnapped by Tippoli's men," Judge Lane answered for Frank.

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Joe moaned as he opened his eyes. A sudden bump made him groan when his head banged against the inside of the car trunk he was currently imprisoned in. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, where he was being taken , or even who had grabbed him. But he was glad Camille's father had refused to let him take her out. Otherwise, and he shuddered at the thought, Camille would have been in just as much trouble as he was.

Joe tried to move around but the ropes binding his hands behind his back and his ankles kept his movements to a minimum. Another bump and Joe's stomach bubbled. He swallowed behind the foul bandana that had been put in his mouth. He had been chloroformed before and recognized the way he was feeling as being caused by the chemical's side effects. He only hoped he didn't have to throw up. In his current position, he could easily choke on his own vomit.

Joe closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. As the car continued its journey, Joe fell into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

Joe awoke as the trunk of the car popped open. He blinked as his eyes tried to grow accustomed to the bright sunshine.

"You grab his feet," one of his abductors instructed the other as the man's hands reached behind Joe's shoulders.

Joe was lifted out of the car and then slung over the shoulders of the man who had spoken in a fireman's carry. "I'll take him in," the man said. "You put the car away."

The man carried Joe effortlessly. Joe could feel the man's muscles ripple as he was carted up a flight of steps. Joe couldn't see the building he was being taken into but he could hear the ocean in the background as the waves broke against the rocks. Before him, he could see a luscious background of greenery intermingled with flowers and the bark of trees. Wherever he was, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

Soon, Joe was inside and carried through a foyer into a large room with thick fur carpet and leather furniture. Joe was set on the floor in front of an easy chair on which sat a man Joe recognized at once: Antonio Tippoli. He had thick, dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. His chin was square and there was a small scar near his left eye that Joe knew had been caused by a knife.

Tippoli made a hand motion and the bandana was pulled from Joe's mouth. "Who are you?" Tippoli demanded.

"You..." Joe started but stopped and licked his lips because his mouth was so dry. He tried again to speak. "You kidnapped me and you don't even know who I am?" Joe asked in disbelief. "That's a good way to run a business," he added sarcastically.

Tippoli narrowed his eyes on Joe in dislike. "I know who you are," he stated with clarity and a hint of menace. "You are Marie Sorrel's boyfriend. I want to know your name."

Joe swallowed. Telling Tippoli he was Joe Hardy would be a very bad thing, especially if Tippoli connected him to his dad! Joe gave a weak smile. "John Doe," he answered finally.

Tippoli's eyes hardened and his nostrils flared as he fought to control his temper. For once, Joe wished he had said nothing. "Check his wallet," Tippoli snapped to the man who had parked the car and just entered the room.

The man came close to Joe and leaned down to check his pockets. Joe tried to hold his breath. Hadn't the man ever heard of deodorant?

"He hasn't got one on him," the man declared, straightening back up and looking at his boss through dark eyes. "Was it in the car, Matt?" he asked the man who had carried Joe inside.

"No," Matt answered. Joe looked up at the man with light brown hair questioningly. Joe knew his wallet had been in the car. He had taken it out to see how much money he had on him and had left it lying in the front seat when he had seen the light click on in the front of Camille's house. Thinking he had been seen arriving, he had left the wallet in his haste.

"You might as well let me go," Joe said. "I'm not dating Marie anymore. We broke up."

"Of course you did," Tippoli said, his tone relaying his disbelief. "Tell me your name," he ordered the youth once again.

Joe kept silent. At least if they believed he belonged to Sorrel's gang they might keep him alive a little while.

Tippoli's eyes hardened once again. "Put him on ice for now," he ordered his men. "I'll call Sorrel and let him know we have something that belongs to him."


	7. Chapter Seven

"Keep looking," Con instructed the officer. "See if you can find anything else."

Frank nibbled on his bottom lip as he looked at Camille. He then turned back to Con. "If Tippoli is behind this then Camille could have been the real target."

"I know," Con affirmed. "It's possible they thought Joe was the judge's son."

Judge Lane's face hardened. "If Kern is guilty then I have to sentence him," he stated. "But I can give you some time to find the boy."

"How?" asked Frank hopefully.

"Tomorrow morning I will recess court until Monday," Judge Lane said.

"I hate to say this, but they will still come after Camille if she was the intended target," said Frank. "Once they see Joe's driver's license they will know they have the wrong person."

"But they may decide he would make a great hostage," Con put in. He could see how terrified Frank was becoming and needed to convince him that Joe still had a chance.

"I hope so," Frank said softly.

Con looked at the judge. "Would you like us to put Camille in protective custody?" he inquired.

"No," Camille stated, her green eyes determined.

Frank couldn't help but smile. It seemed Camille and Joe had at least one thing in common: they both disliked being confined.

"A guard, then," Con offered. "We can keep your house under twenty-four-hour surveillance."

"That would be acceptable," the judge answered before Camille could speak. "And for the time being, I think you should remain at home," he added, looking at his daughter.

"But school..." she objected.

"Can wait," her father finished for her in a tone Frank recognized as one their father used on Joe frequently.

Frank left the Lane residence after Con promised to keep the Hardys updated on the case and headed home. When he got there he found his father in the second story bedroom he had converted into an office.

"Find out anything?" inquired Fenton, looking from his computer monitor to his eldest son as he entered and sat down on the corner of his desk.

"Joe was kidnapped as he was leaving the Lane's," Frank informed his dad and then told him about the misunderstanding. "Oh, and Judge Lane is going to recess court until Monday," Frank added.

"That's good news," Fenton said, looking back at the monitor as he moved the computer's mouse. "That will help take the pressure off."

"What have you come up with?" asked Frank.

"I've been researching the Kern case," Fenton began. "Alvin Thomas Kern was arrested four months ago for breaking and entering the house of one Alan Jordan and killing him."

"Four months?" Frank repeated in astonishment. "And it's already going to trial?"

"Apparently, the state not only had evidence but also a witness," Fenton said.

"And he's pleading not guilty?" asked Frank.

"He is," acknowledged Fenton. "But he has no alibi."

"And Tippoli's lawyers are doing whatever they can but it isn't enough," guessed Frank.

Fenton shook his head. " Kern has a court appointed attorney. It seems, Tippoli isn't getting involved."

"But he did when he grabbed Joe," Frank said.

"Right," concurred Fenton, looking at the list of witnesses he had pulled up using the passwords he had been given to access sensitive material in the government's database. Fortunately, he often worked for the government and had a high level of security clearance with all the benefits that went with it.

"What now?" asked Frank. "Do we start looking for Tippoli?"

"I do," Fenton stated, turning to give Frank a stern look. "You will go to school."

"No way!" Frank denied heatedly.

"There isn't anything you can do at the present," Fenton told him. "By tomorrow afternoon I should have at least a place to start."

"But..."

"No buts," Fenton said. "Go to bed," he ordered. "By this time tomorrow you will be glad you did."

Frank left the room grumbling. He didn't want to admit it, but his father was right. They had to have a place to start and just looking for Tippoli wasn't going to do the trick. Tippoli probably wouldn't have Joe anywhere near him. With a heavy sigh, Frank went to his room. He tried to do his homework but couldn't concentrate. He finally closed his physics book in disgust and went to get ready for bed.

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The next morning Frank met up with his friends at the rear entrance to the school. "Where's Joe?" asked Biff, not seeing the blond boy accompanying his brother.

Frank told his friends about Joe's abduction outside the Lane home. "Is there anything we can do to help?" asked Chet.

"Not now," Frank declined the offer with a shake of his head. "Dad's hoping he will find something we can move on today but right now it doesn't look too good."

"You'll find him," Callie said with confidence, placing her hand on his arm and looking into his sad brown eyes.

"And kick Tippoli butt!" Tony put in with a grin.

Frank gave his friends a half-hearted grin as the first bell rang. "Want some company this evening?" inquired Phil as they hurried toward homeroom.

"Thanks, but I'm hoping I will have something to do after school," Frank said.

"I can help," offered Phil.

"Not just yet," said Frank. "We don't know what we're getting into."

"I understand," Phil said. "But remember, we're all here if you need us."

"Thanks," replied Frank gratefully.

With the help of his friends, Frank made it through his morning classes. When lunchtime rolled around he headed straight for the cafeteria. By this time, word of Joe's abduction had spread throughout the school so when Todd Brigham, a fellow senior, saw Frank heading his way he quickly ended his call and handed Frank the receiver, ignoring the other four students who had been waiting in line behind him.

Frank accepted the receiver with an apologetic smile to those in line and a thank you to Todd. "Anything?" asked Frank as soon as he heard the receiver picked up on the other end.

"Frank?" his mother's voice came through the line.

"Yes, Mom," acknowledged Frank. "Can I speak to Dad? Has he found out anything?"

"Your father isn't here," Laura replied. "He left about twenty minutes after you did and hasn't returned yet."

"Great," mumbled Frank, running a hand through his hair.

"He did say he would call if he couldn't make it home by dinnertime," Laura added.

"So there isn't any reason for me to come home now?" Frank asked, disappointed. He didn't know why he had to stay at school when he couldn't concentrate anyway.

"No," Laura answered. "Honey, I know this is difficult for you but if you keep missing school, even if it's for a good cause, you won't be able to graduate."

"But we get permission from the school board," Frank reminded his mother.

"Only when it involves national security," Laura said. Fenton had discussed the matter with her when she had voiced her concern over the boys' continual absences. "Joe not being there will be excused because it is beyond his control. You don't have that excuse."

"Peachy," grumbled Frank. "I'll be home as soon as school's out," he promised.

"I'm sorry, baby," Laura said sympathetically.

"It's not your fault," Frank said. "I should have realized. Joe and I have missed a lot."

"Yes, but Joe's only a junior. He can go to summer school," she reminded him.

"And I want to start at the university in June," Frank said. "It's okay," he continued. "I can make it through the rest of the day. But..." he stressed. "But if you hear anything, call me. I can always go to summer school and start at the university in the fall."

"I will," Laura promised and hung up.

Frank hung up and headed over to the table where his friends were sitting. "Why don't you just go home?" asked Callie.

"Can't," Frank answered and explained the situation.

"Talk to your teachers," Phil suggested. "You make straight A's and you always get your homework caught up. They'll probably cut you some slack."

"Phil's right," agreed Karen. "Your teachers are nice. I'm sure they will work something out with you."

"It's worth trying," said Frank, putting his hands on the table and pushing his chair back. "Thanks, guys," he added, smiling at his friends.

Twenty-five minutes later, Frank exited the school. His teachers had agreed with Frank's friends. He shouldn't be forced to stay at school when his brother's fate was unknown. As long as he caught up any missed assignments they would not mark him absent.

Callie was outside with her botany class collecting samples to study and saw Frank exit the building and start toward his van. She was glad he had been able to leave early. She was just about to turn away when she saw two men step from behind the van. One pulled a gun on Frank while the other took the keys from his hand. In seconds, Frank had been forced into the van and it was on its way out of the school parking lot!


	8. Chapter Eight

Joe was taken to the top floor and tied to a chair in what he assumed was the smallest room in the house. The furniture was meager with only a twin bed; chair; desk and one dresser. There was one window, a small oval shaped one that not even a child would have been able to climb through even had they not been on the third floor.

After being tied to the chair he was left alone. No one had bothered stuffing the bandana back in his mouth so he assumed the house was in a secured area.

He wondered if Frank would have any idea who had kidnapped him or if Matt had disposed of his mom's car in the bay. If that were the case, everyone would think he was dead and his body washed out to sea. But then, once Tippoli called Sorrel and found out he was a nobody to him then he would be dead anyway.

Realizing he was probably on his own, Joe began trying to loosen his bonds. It was almost two hours later before he finally felt the rope begin to give. With that little encouragement he put even more effort into scraping the ropes against the chair, ignoring the pain he felt in his wrists. He quit suddenly, his heart leaping into his throat as something pushed against the door. He held his breath, waiting for the door to open. He let out the breath slowly as the door remained shut. He returned to work on the rope. An hour later the rope around his wrists fell to the floor. He started to rub his right wrist but stopped just shy of touching it. He doubted touching either of his wrists in their current condition was such a good idea.

Joe bent over and untied his feet then stood up. Again, he heard something at the door and froze. 'Maybe I'm just jumpy,' he thought when the door still remained shut.

Taking a deep breath he moved to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and listened. Hearing nothing, he turned the knob and eased the door open. Something shot past his ankles and he leaned against the doorframe with a hand to his heart when he saw what had been causing the noise at the door.

"Mew," the little feline stated, sitting down and looking up at him briefly before ignoring him completely and licking its front paw.

Almost weak with relief, Joe checked the hallway. No one was about. "Here kitty, kitty," he said softly, motioning for the cat to exit the room with him but after one glance, he was ignored again. Since he couldn't very well leave the critter shut up, he left the door slightly ajar as he departed.

Joe reached the top of the staircase unnoticed. He could hear voices below and doubted he would be able to escape, but perhaps he could find a phone and call home.

He retreated from the stairs and began opening doors. The first door revealed a linen closet but the second one opened into a large bedroom. By the bedside, on an oak nightstand table, sat the object of his search: a telephone. He hurried forward and sat down on the bed. He lifted the receiver cautiously. Assured no phone was currently in use, Joe dialed home putting in the area code first.

'Blast it!' he thought. How could it be busy? They had call waiting. He was missing for crying out loud! Why would they have both lines tied up? Now what? Chet? Biff? No, he decided, observing the time on the clock by the bedside. They would be at football practice. Callie? It was worth a try. Even if she weren't at home then her mother might be.

Joe dialed Callie's number. One ring. Two. "Hello?" Joe breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Callie's voice.

"Callie, it's Joe," he said.

"Joe! Oh, I'm so glad!" Callie enthused and continued without giving Joe a chance to say anything. "Two men grabbed Frank at gunpoint this afternoon! I called your mom and the police but no one has any idea where he was taken!"

"Callie, I..." Joe started only to fall silent as the receiver was yanked from his hand.

The receiver was set back on the hook as Tippoli spoke from behind him. "The nice thing about plush carpet," he said, causing Joe to look at the thick carpet beneath his feet. "It muffles sound nicely," Tippoli finished after his dramatic pause. He looked at the man who had snatched the receiver from Joe. "Kirk, make sure he does not escape again."


	9. Chapter Nine

Callie stood with the receiver in her hand and her mouth hanging open for a full minute before slowly lowering the handset. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she berated herself. Joe was still in trouble! But why had he called her instead of home? She picked up the handset and dialed the Hardy home. Busy! "Oh no," she cried. That's why Joe had called her. He couldn't get through at home and thought she could help him.

"And I not only let him down but also gave him something else to worry about," she moaned. "Frank will kill me!" Callie got up and ran downstairs. "I'm going over to the Hardys!" she called out as she passed the living room where her mom was watching a soap opera. Selena turned to give her daughter a time to come home but all she could do was catch the breeze as the front door closed behind Callie.

Callie pulled her old, blue Nova to a stop in front of one of the Hardys' neighbor's houses because the Hardy drive was completely blocked. There were two police cruisers present and four other vehicles that looked to her like unmarked police cars. However, judging from the two men standing outside of the Hardy residence, the cars more than likely belonged to the FBI.

She got out and made her way to the porch where her progress was intercepted by the two agents. "Can we help you?" asked one of the men, staring down at her.

"I need to speak with Mr. Hardy," Callie said, refusing to be intimidated.

"He's busy," Callie was informed. "You will have to come back."

"It's about his son, Joe," Callie stated, refusing to budge.

"Come with me," one of the men instructed her.

Callie followed the man inside to where Fenton was standing at the dining room table surrounded by Chief Collig, Sergeant Con Riley and four men she did not recognize.

"Callie," Fenton exclaimed in surprise as she entered. "What is it?" he asked, seeing how upset she looked.

"Your phone," Callie said, unsure how to tell him about the error she had made. "Both lines were busy." Fenton remained quite, aware she had more to say. "Joe called me," she continued. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "I...I thought he had gotten away and I told him about Frank getting kidnapped. I...I never gave him a chance to tell me anything. Then we were disconnected."

"Shh, it's okay," Fenton said, pulling the distraught teenager into his arms and holding her as she wept silent tears. "Thanks to you we know who took the boys," he told her. "One of the men you saw this morning was Anthony Dobson. He works for Cooper Sorrel."

"Sorrel took Frank. And Joe?" she asked, sniffing as she pulled back.

"Yes," acknowledged Chief Collig from behind Fenton.

"No," countered another voice from the doorway.

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Kirk grabbed Joe's arm and pulled him up roughly from the bed. He was forced back down to the end of the hall and to the door of his temporary prison. The cat ran out as they entered the room.

Kirk pushed Joe onto the bed. "Lay down, Kid," Joe was ordered.

Joe complied as Kirk gathered the ropes from the base of the chair. "Sorry 'bout that," Joe apologized with tongue in cheek and gave a smug grin when Kirk scowled at him.

Kirk snorted then smiled thinly at Joe, causing the youth more than a little discomfort. Kirk pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Bring some rope," he instructed the person at the other end.

Joe lay still, his eyes never leaving Kirk who never took his eyes off of Joe. Soon, Matt was at the door with a length of rope draped over one shoulder and a tray in his hands.

"I'll take over baby duty," he told Kirk. "The boss wants to see you."

Joe sat up as Matt set the tray down over his legs. "Why did you lie about my wallet?" he asked point blank.

Matt held up a finger to his lips and winked at Joe. "Don't worry," he told Joe. "It will all work out. Now eat up."

"Why did you take my brother too?" Joe demanded.

"Tippoli doesn't have him," Matt replied. "Don't worry. Nothing is going to happen to your brother. I promise," he added, smiling.

Having no other choice, and being considerably hungry from not having had anything since lunch the day before, Joe did as he had been bidden.

Matt took the tray and set it on the desk when Joe had finished. "Time to tie you back up." Minutes later, Joe was tied securely to the bed and Matt left the room, closing the door and locking it.

Taking a deep breath, Joe began struggling with his bonds but soon realized he didn't have as much energy as he had only moments before. Ceasing his struggles, he came to a horrifying conclusion: they were giving him no opportunities to escape. Not only had he been bound and imprisoned but also drugged!


	10. Chapter Ten

Frank hurried out of school and toward the van. His friends had been right, his teachers were very understanding. His hand dove into his pocket for his keys as he neared the van. He stopped in surprise as two men stepped from behind the van.

"I'll take those," said one of the men, snatching the keys from Frank's hand.

"Who are you?" demanded Frank. "Where's my brother?"

"Your questions will be answered," said the muscular man who held a gun trained on Frank. "Our orders are to bring you in. Let's go."

"You want to know about your brother, don't you?" the blond who had grabbed Frank's keys asked upon seeing Frank's hesitation.

Frank gave a slight nod. "You drive. I'll navigate," the blond continued, opening the driver's door for Frank to enter as the other man climbed in the passenger side.

It didn't take Frank long to realize where they were going. "Cooper Sorrel!" he exclaimed angrily. "He kidnapped Joe!"

"Pipe down!" the blond man ordered Frank.

Frank closed his mouth and kept driving. He would be quite for now but just wait until he saw Sorrel! A few minutes later, Frank pulled the van to a stop in Sorrel's drive. He wondered if Marie were here or if she had already returned to boarding school. If the latter were the case then Sorrel's abduction of Joe could have dire consequences.

"Come on, Kid," the man with the gun ordered Frank as they exited the van. "Let's go see the boss."

Frank was more than ready and wasted no time going from the van to the front door. He was in such a hurry that his captors almost had to run to keep up with him. The blond rang the bell and the three waited on the doorstep silently for the minute it took the butler to open the door and admit them.

"Hello, Frank," Sorrell greeted Frank as he and Sorrel's two men entered the living room.

"Forget the niceties," snarled Frank, balling his hands into fists. "Where's my brother? If you've hurt him I'll hurt you!" he threatened.

Sorrel smiled in amusement. Frank was unarmed and outnumbered but still courageous and brash enough to be protective of his brother. "Calm down, Hardy. I do not have your brother."

"You...you don't?" asked a devastated Frank. He hadn't realized how much he had been hoping Sorrel did have Joe. "But you know who does?" Sorrel gave him a curt nod. "Who? How?" Frank demanded.

"Tippoli," Sorrel answered.

"So Joe's abduction does have something to do with the Kern case," Frank stated with a frown.

"No," Sorrel told him. Frank looked at Sorrel in surprise.

"Then why?" asked Frank.

"First, why did you assume Joe's kidnapping had to do with Kern?" Sorrel countered. Frank was silent. Should he tell Sorrel about Joe dating Judge Lane's daughter? "Frank?" Sorrel prompted him.

Deciding it couldn't hurt, Frank filled Sorrel in on what they knew and suspected about Joe's disappearance. "So, if Tippoli didn't take Joe as leverage against Judge Lane, why did he?" ended Frank.

"He knew Joe was dating my Marie," Sorrel stated, his eyes darkening. "He took Joe because he was the most vulnerable member of the family. My family," he qualified.

"Joe isn't..." Frank began heatedly but Sorrel prevented him from continuing.

"No, Joe isn't," he stated. "But Tippoli is behind the times. He took Joe believing he was a means of controlling me."

"And you put him straight," Frank guessed, his stomach knotting in fear. Was Joe dead?

"No," Sorrel denied. "Tippoli took something he believed to be mine. I cannot allow that."

"Even if it means Joe gets hurt in the process," Frank stated with contempt.

"I do not like you or your father," Sorrel informed Frank haughtily. "But I do respect your brother and no harm shall befall him because of his previous association with my daughter."

"Do you know where they are holding him?" demanded Frank.

"Yes," Sorrel acknowledged. "And we will get him back."

"Meaning, you aren't going to tell me?" Frank asked, scowling.

"No," Sorrel concurred with a smile.

"Then why did you have your men bring me here?" Frank wanted to know.

"I suspect you are as fond of your brother as he is of you," Sorrel explained. "Had I called your home then your father, and possibly the FBI, would have their noses in my business. I am telling you out of respect for your brother. You will not involve yourself in the matter. I promise you, Joe will be returned, safe and sound."

"But..."

"Enough," Sorrel silenced him. "Stay out of this. Your interference can only cause trouble. You may leave now," he ended the conversation.

Frank was escorted back to the van. He climbed in and drove away under the watchful eyes of the two men who had brought him.

He arrived home and was surprised to find so many cars about. At the front door he was greeted by a FBI agent.

"Frank Hardy!" the agent exclaimed in surprise.

"Is my father here?" Frank asked, not wasting time trying to find out the man's name.

"Inside," Frank was informed. Frank hurried into the house, pausing at the entrance to the dining room as he saw Callie standing before his father. He listened to what she had to say and his father's response.

"No," Frank stated.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"Frank!" Callie squealed and flew across the room into his arms. "I'm so sorry," she cried.

"It's okay," Frank said, giving her a tight hug and looking over at his father. "Tippoli has Joe."

"But the men who took you..." began a surprised Fenton.

"Work for Sorrel," Frank acknowledged. "Sorrel told me Tippoli had told him he had Joe."

"Why would he tell Sorrel?" a puzzled Chief Collig inquired.

Frank repeated what Sorrel had told him. "We can't leave your son's fate in the hands of a crime lord," one of the agents said to Fenton.

"Agreed," Fenton concurred. "Do you have a location on Tippoli?"

"We have several addresses," Fenton was informed. "But we currently have no positive location."

"Check them out," Fenton instructed the men. "Frank," he continued, turning back to his son who had moved closer as he spoke. "I think we need to look into the Kern case. I'm not entirely convinced Joe's abduction isn't related."

"Why?" Callie asked. "Sorrel said Joe was kidnapped because of his connection to him, not Judge Lane."

"The man Kern allegedly murdered worked for Sorrel," Fenton informed Frank and Callie, keeping his voice low enough so that only they and Chief Collig could hear.

"Is that a secret?" asked Callie softly.

"Only that we're going to delve into that aspect of the case," Fenton answered in a low voice. "It's getting late," he continued a bit louder. "Callie, why don't you go home and get some rest?" he suggested. "I'm going to call the DA and then Frank and I have some work to do."

"Okay," Callie agreed. "And I'm really sorry," she apologized yet again.

"It's okay," Frank assured her, escorting her out of the dining room. "We'll find him"  
"Be careful," Callie begged him as they reached the front door.

"I will," he promised, leaning down and kissing her. A couple of minutes later he watched her drive away then returned to the dining room.

"Let me know as soon as you find Tippoli," Fenton was requesting as Frank neared.

The agent nodded his acknowledgement and then he, and the other agents, left. "Fenton, if you want to question Kern, you can?" offered Chief Collig.

"Thanks, Ezra," Fenton replied gratefully. "I would. How about tomorrow morning?"

"Seven?" Collig inquired, quirking an eyebrow questioningly.

"I'll be there," Fenton promised. He walked Chief Collig and Sergeant Riley to the door, leaving Frank alone.

"Why are you waiting until tomorrow?" Frank demanded when his father returned.

"Because I'm going to talk to Steve Byrnes first," Fenton explained, naming the district attorney. "I have already called him and he is expecting me in half an hour."

"Oh," Frank said, no longer upset with his father. "I'm going to go see Judge Lane," he said. "Maybe he can tell me something."

"Possible," Fenton acknowledged. "Remember however, he is limited in what he can tell you."

"I know. I wish I had paid more attention to this case when the trial first started," Frank said, scowling.

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Frank pushed the button beside the front door and waited as the peal echoed through the house. Soon the door opened and Judge Lane stood before him.

"I've been expecting you," the judge said, stepping aside so Frank could enter.

"One of the officer's came to the door and told us Joe's kidnapping wasn't associated with Dad's case," Camille explained as Frank entered the house. She stood just behind her father and looked at Frank quizzically. "So why was Joe taken and by whom?"

"By Tippoli's men," answered Frank.

"But the officer said..." Camille began to object.

Frank shook his head at her. "Apparently, Tippoli took Joe because he thought Joe and Marie were still dating."

"But why?" Camille demanded. "There has to be more to it than that!"

"There is," admitted Frank. "But we don't know what at the moment. Even though we've been told Joe's kidnapping has nothing to do with the case, we aren't so sure," he continued. "And that's why I'm here. I was wondering if you could tell me everything you can about the case?"

"But if it does involve the case then Camille could still be in trouble," the judge said, ignoring Frank's question for the moment.

"Possible, but doubtful," Frank said. "Sorrel sounded positive Joe's abduction was planned. That means, it was Joe they were after all along and not just a way to get at you."

"I see," the judge said. "You realize, I am not at liberty to tell you anything that has not been presented at the trial?" Judge Lane continued.

"Yes, Sir," acknowledged Frank. "But even that would be a start."

"Come into the living room," Camille instructed the two males. "I'll put on a pot of coffee."

"Not for me, thanks," Frank declined the invitation. He knew it would be hard enough to sleep tonight without any added caffeine.

"Me either," the judge said, smiling at his daughter. He allowed Camille to lead the way into the living room. "Where would you like me to begin?" he asked Frank once they were seated.

"With the people involved," said Frank. "Who are all the players and which side are they on?"

"Alvin Kern, the defendant," Judge Lane began. "August, his wife. Mike Stampson and Arte Tirnady. They are character witnesses."

"Are Tirnady and Stampson members of Tippoli's family?" asked Frank.

"I don't believe so," Lane answered.

"Are any of the people involved members?" Camille asked the question before Frank could.

"Of the Tippoli clan, only Kern," the judge answered. "But the victim, and four close relatives of the victim's are on Sorrel's side."

"And they are?" queried Frank.

"Alan Jordan, the murdered man, and his brother Jonathan were in the high echelon of Sorrel's organization. Cord Marshall was the victim's brother-in-law, and his first cousin, Kevin Reed, are all in Sorrel's organization," Judge Lane informed Frank.

"Are there any more people testifying against Kern?" asked Frank.

"They aren't testifying against Kern," Judge Lane announced.

"They aren't?" Frank repeated in surprise. "But they're the victim's family!"

"And that is why this case is so unique."


	12. Chapter Twelve

"Son," Fenton greeted Frank when he returned home. "Can you come to my office, please?" he requested when Frank looked up from his computer.

"I'll be right there," promised Frank, clicking print before following his father out of the room and down the hall.

Frank sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of his dad's desk and leaned forward, eager to divulge what he had learned. "I think Tippoli is framing Kern because he was a spy for Sorrel," Fenton said, sitting down behind his desk.

Frank leaned back with a scowl because he had come to the same conclusion and been beaten out of saying so first. "Me too," he concurred. "Why else would Sorrel's men, the victim's own family, be testifying for Kern?"

"There's more to it than that," Fenton told Frank. "Kern started working for Tippoli three years ago," he began. "For the first two years, apparently, there were no problems. But last February Tippoli planned a major attack against Sorrel. Sorrel was tipped off by someone inside Tippoli's organization. Tippoli began planning other 'major' attacks on a regular basis after that."

"But Tippoli only let select people know and altered those people until he found the mole," guessed Frank. "What about Kern's background? Didn't it ring any bells for Tippoli?"

"Kern's parents died eight years ago," Fenton answered with a shake of his head. "They had been only children and so was he. Before he started working for Tippoli he was employed at one of the casino's in Vegas as a bouncer."

"No connection to Sorrel at all?" asked Frank.

"None that had come to light," Fenton replied. "But I have come to the conclusion that Tippoli kidnapped Joe because he wants Kern convicted."

"And once Kern is sentenced and sent to prison he's a dead man and no one will know who killed him," finished Frank grimly. "So we have to find out who really killed Jordan," he sighed. "But how is that going to get Joe back?"

"It's not," admitted Fenton, wearily rubbing the back of his neck. "But getting Kern convicted will."

"We can't do that," argued Frank. "Not if he's innocent. Joe wouldn't be able to live with himself. You know he still blames himself for Iola's death and he had no control over that either!"

"Calm down," Fenton ordered his irate son. "Once Kern is convicted then he will be placed in a special holding cell here in Bayport prior to his transfer to prison. Tippoli should release Joe during that time since Kern will have received a conviction. Once Joe is safe, we produce the real culprit and Kern gets a retrial. He won't even have to go to prison," Fenton ended.

Frank crossed his arms and stared at his father in disbelief. "That isn't how it works," he stated firmly.

Fenton grinned. "It is when the DA, the defense attorney and the police department have all agreed to the plan."

"But this is all if there is a conviction," Frank pointed out.

"Yes," Fenton acknowledged with a sigh. "And that is the one factor we can't control."

"Is anyone going to talk to Sorrel about this?" asked Frank.

"No," was the reply. "Sorrel doesn't want any involvement and as far as he is concerned, we won't be involved."

"Won't Kern's attorney..." began Frank but stopped when his father shook his head.

"Sorrel is still claiming no involvement so Kern's attorney is court appointed," explained Fenton.

"If Sorrel is pretending he isn't involved, then why are the victim's family testifying for the defense?"

"Kern's mother's cousin was the victim's first cousin," Fenton stated. "In a way, they are related and everyone knows Sorrel's stand on family. They are expected to help regardless of what is going on."

Before anymore could be said, the phone on Fenton's desk rang. "Hardy Investigations," answered Fenton on the second ring.

"We've located Tippoli," the agent informed Fenton. "And he has Joe with him."

"Where?" demanded Fenton, gripping the phone tightly in his excitement.

"Maine," was the response. "If you want to join us, be at the airport in forty minutes."

"I'll be there," acknowledged Fenton before hanging up.

"What?" Frank demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"We may not have to worry about Kern getting convicted after all," Fenton informed his son. "The FBI has located your brother."

"Woohoo!" Frank shouted, jumping to his feet.

"I'm going with the FBI to Maine to get Joe," Fenton continued.

"Me too," Frank insisted.

"Sorry," Fenton said with a shake of his head as he stood up. "You will have to stay here. But I promise to have Joe call as soon as he is rescued."

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After all the details had been ironed out and warrants obtained, almost twelve hours had passed. But when it was time Fenton, Agent Kurtz and no less than twenty more federal agents were stationed around the perimeter of Tippoli's Maine getaway.

"Let's move in," Agent Kurtz spoke into his walkie-talkie. Immediately black jackets bearing the letters FBI on the back surged out of the woods toward the house.

"What's that?" demanded an alarmed Fenton, coming to a standstill and looking at the mansion.

"They're getting away!" Agent Kurtz screamed as two choppers rose from the top of the house.

"Should we bring them down, Sir?" inquired a voice over the talkie.

"Negative," was Kurtz's reply. "Possible hostage."

Fenton watched the helicopters fly out of sight with a heavy heart. He knew Joe hadn't been left behind. That would have been too easy. Once the choppers were out of sight, he followed the agents into the house.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Joe awoke slowly. He could hear a seagull and wondered how one could be so close to his house as he groggily opened his eyes. "Mmmm," he moaned, awareness hitting him like a ton of lead. He wasn't at home and it was obvious he was no longer in the mansion he had been in previously.

He moved his right arm to try and stretch out a kink and was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was no longer bound. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, letting his hands rest on the soft mattress as he took in his new surroundings.

Not a large room by any means but there was a bed, a desk and chair, and a lamp. He stood shakily and checked the three doors. The first was locked: obviously the exit. The second door was a miniature closet while the third opened to reveal a toilet; sink and compact shower stall. Sighing, he turned around and walked to the small porthole and looked out at the expanse of sea.

No land or boat in sight. He rubbed the back of his neck as he returned to the bed and sat down. He wondered where he was and why he had been moved? He also wondered how long he had been asleep? But most of all, he wondered if his dad or brother had any clue as to who had taken him or why?

His musings were interrupted by the sound of a lock turning. Seconds later the door opened and Matt entered the room with a tray. "I don't want anything," Joe said, glaring at him.

"It's not drugged," Matt informed him. "This is where you'll stay until you are released."

"Am I going to be released?" Joe demanded, his eyes searching Matt's. "Or am I going to be killed?"

"That depends on Sorrel," Matt answered. "But until we know one way or the other, there is no since in starving yourself."

"How long was I out?" Joe asked as Matt set the tray down on the desk. He had decided Matt's point was valid.

"About twelve hours," Matt answered. "There are some clothes in the closet if you want to shower and change," he added.

"I saw them," Joe replied. "Why did you lie about my wallet?" he asked the man for the second time in their meager acquaintance.

Matt never answered. He merely stared at Joe with a stone face. "Right," Joe said, realizing he shouldn't ask the question again. But he couldn't help but wonder if Matt was a spy for Sorrel, the government, or merely one of Tippoli's men who knew his father and had reasons of his own for not revealing Joe's true identity.

Matt left Joe's quarters, locking the door behind him. Joe got up and lifted the lid off of the tray to see what he had been given: bacon; eggs; grits and toast. "Breakfast time," Joe guessed, looking out the porthole once more. No sun. So it was either not really morning or he wasn't facing east. It looked a few shades darker in the distance so he guessed he was probably somewhere in the Pacific. A long way from where he had been Wednesday evening. With a sigh, Joe pulled out the desk chair and sat down. Matt had been right about one thing: there was no point in going hungry.

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"How is our guest?" Tippoli inquired as Matt entered.

"Chomping at the bit," Matt answered. "I don't think he is overly fond of his new quarters."

"Yes, well, if the Feds hadn't interfered we would be rid of him by now," Tippoli replied. "Sorrel was complying with our request."

"Are you sure?" Matt asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that remark?" Tippoli demanded curiously.

Matt shrugged. "It just seemed to me that he gave in too easily."

Tippoli's face turned stormy. "Could he have tipped the Feds off?" he wondered out loud. "Having to leave without notice was no small inconvenience," he continued, growing angrier by the second. "If Ford hadn't noticed the Feds when he did, then we would all be in trouble for kidnapping."

"You shouldn't keep the boy with you," Matt pointed out. "Then the Feds couldn't get you for anything."

"You are right," Tippoli agreed. "Since Sorrel tried to double cross me, I have the perfect solution : we will eliminate the boy."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Mom, I'm going over to Callie's," Frank said, poking his head into his parent's bedroom. "It will be awhile before Dad calls and just sitting around is driving me crazy. At least I can be there when she gets home from school."

"You could have gone to school," Laura pointed out.

"I wouldn't be able to concentrate," Frank replied.

"I understand," Laura told him. "Don't worry," she added. "Your father will find Joe." If she kept saying it then maybe she would actually believe it!

Frank gave her a wan smile before leaving. For some reason, he felt guilty. Going over to his girlfriend's house while his brother was in the clutches of a crime lord was more than a little heartless but, as his mother implied, it would help him feel better when there wasn't anything he could do about the problem. Of course... He stopped with his hand on the van's door handle as it hit him that there was something he could do. Just because Joe was being rescued didn't alter the fact that Kern was being framed and there was a real killer on the loose.

Frank pulled the van door open and climbed inside. He put it in reverse and backed out of the drive. Switching gears, he drove down the street to the stop sign. When he pulled away he made a right turn instead of the left that would have taken him to Callie's.

Twenty minutes later, Frank came to a stop in front of a modest two-story house on the outskirts of Bayport. Frank took a deep breath before getting out of the van and going up the walk. He pushed the button beside the screen door to announce his presence and waited for the door to open. Was he doing the right thing, he wondered? After all, Sorrel had told him to stay out of it and he hadn't told anyone where he was going. "Oh yeah," he said softly. "I'm turning into Joe."

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"Joe was being held prisoner in a room upstairs," Agent Kurtz informed Fenton. "But it doesn't appear that he has been harmed. There is only a little blood on the ropes. Most likely from where he was trying to escape."

"Any clue as to where he has been taken?" asked Fenton, feeling a bit better.

"Actually, " the agent said, dragging the word out. "We're not sure."

"What?" demanded Fenton, a look of confusion on his face.

"Someone left a note," Kurtz said. "It could be a trap or it could be Tippoli has a traitor in his ranks."

"What did the note say?" asked Fenton.

"Coraline," was the answer. "Tippoli owns a boat that he keeps anchored off the coast of California."

"And they went all the way across the country in helicopters?" Fenton responded to the announcement with a shake of his head. "But, I suppose, they could have flown to another location where they have a plane ready," he amended thoughtfully.

"I've already alerted our West Coast branch," Agent Kurtz said. "They are going to check it out and get back to us."

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"Sir, there is always the possibility that Sorrel knew nothing of the raid," Matt objected to killing Joe. "And if we eliminate him and Sorrel was innocent then we will have to prepare for severe retaliation."

"He's right, boss," put in Jeff Hatcher, another member of Tippoli's organization that had accompanied him from the Maine mansion.

"Very well. Sorrel will have one more chance," Tippoli agreed. He looked around the less than accommodating quarters and frowned. "But I think we will put to shore. It was an excellent idea of yours, Matt, to not take the Coraline but I do detest such a small ship."

"What was that?" exclaimed Jeff as the ship lurched violently.

The intercom came on and the voice of one of the crew could be heard making a frantic cry. "We're taking on water!"

"Plug the leak!" snapped the captain.

"No can do," was the reply. "It's too big. It's like a huge hole just opened out of nowhere."

"How much water?"

"I'm up to my knees already, Sir."

There was a brief pause and then the PA system blared a warning before the captain spoke again. "Man the lifeboats! We are abandoning ship. Repeat. We are abandoning ship. Everyone report to the lifeboats."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The door opened to reveal a tired looking woman in her mid-thirties. She looked at Frank through bloodshot hazel eyes. "Who are you?" she demanded in a weary voice.

"My name is Frank Hardy," Frank introduced himself. "And I believe your husband is being framed. I would like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?"

"You're just a kid," she objected. "What can you do?"

"I'm a junior detective and have been trained by my father, Fenton Hardy," Frank returned calmly. Normally, he disliked using his father's name to gain recognition but since Joe was involved he felt justified.

"You're Joe's brother?" she asked, tilting her head and looking at him as if searching for some type of resemblance.

"Yes, Ma'am," Frank answered, bewildered. How did she know Joe?

"Very well," she said, sighing and opening the screen door. She stepped to the side so Frank could enter and then led the way into the living room.

Frank followed her through a short hallway and into a medium-sized living room and sat down on the sofa with Mrs. Kern taking the seat to the left of the couch. "Do you know my brother?" Frank inquired of his hostess.

"Yes," acknowledged August Kern with a smile. "He's a very polite and well-mannered young man."

"How did you meet him?" inquired Frank curiously.

"At a barbeque," August answered. "He was dating Marie."

"I thought your husband worked for Tippoli," Frank said. "Why were you at Sorrel's barbeque?"

"Alivn works for Sorrel," August stated. "He just pretended to work for Tippoli."

"And now Tippoli is going out of his way to see your husband gets sentenced because he betrayed him," Frank assumed.

"No," August answered. "I'm not sure of the details, but Tippoli is forgiving Alvin because he wants a meeting with Sorrel. Tippoli has no involvement in this whatsoever."

"How can you be sure?" Frank demanded.

"Because I am," she answered, giving Frank a patient smile.

"Do you know why Tippoli wants to meet with Sorrel?" Frank inquired.

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Maybe it is a trap," Frank suggested.

August shook her head lightly. "I think not," she said. "I do know two things about what is going on," she continued. "First, Tippoli's meeting with Sorrel involved a threat to the both of them and second, it was not one of Tippoli's men who implicated my husband in this murder."

"It wasn't?" Frank asked, shock evident on his face. If what she said was true, then he and his father were both wrong about why Joe had been abducted.

"No," August answered. "It was a night security guard on his way to work," she informed him.

"Do you know his name?" Frank inquired. August shook her head. "Where he works?"

"I believe our lawyer said it was The Crimean Jewelry Company," August answered.

"And you are positive the guard has nothing to do with Tippoli?" Frank pushed.

"Sorrel is," August stated. "And that means...yes."

"Can you tell me what kind of evidence they have against your husband?" asked Frank.

"The guard's testimony and a hunting knife: the murder weapon. It was found in the neighbor's trashcan covered in Alan Jordan's blood," was the answer.

"But your husband's fingerprints weren't on the knife?" Frank asked for clarification.

"No."

"So, except for the guard, there is only circumstantial evidence against your husband?" Frank asked in disbelief. He had been led to believe this was a major murder trial.

"That and the fact that Alvin didn't have an alibi," August added.

"Your husband didn't give one?" inquired Frank in surprise.

"He said Matt Horace sent him on an errand," she replied. "But when asked by the authorities, he denied it."

"Do you think Alvin was telling the truth?" asked Frank.

"He would never lie to Sorrel," August told him firmly.

"And yet, Sorrel doesn't think Tippoli has anything to do with Alvin being framed?" Frank asked. This case didn't make any sense to him.

"No," August answered. "But he does believe Horace has an agenda of his own."

"And that is?" Frank asked. August shrugged. She had no idea.

Frank stood up. "Thank you for your time," he said. "It really doesn't sound like your husband has much to worry about. Especially once the guard takes the stand and is cross-examined."

"Impossible," August said, giving Frank one more shock before he left. "He was killed in a car crash two weeks ago."

Frank left the Kern's deep in thought. No matter how he tried, he just couldn't tie Joe's kidnapping to this case. And who was Matt Horace? Why did Sorrel think Tippoli was innocent when Kern's uncorroborated alibi was one of Tippoli's men? Maybe the answer to all these questions lay with the deceased security guard. August Kern may not know his name but he was positive he could find out.

Frank climbed into the van and stopped short of closing the door when an arm snaked around his neck. Scant seconds later another man stepped into view and opened the passenger door and got inside.

"Close your door and let's get moving," Frank was ordered.

Frank looked from the man's hard eyes to the gun that was trained on him and gave a sigh of surrender. The grip on his neck was released and he pulled his door shut. Starting the van, he couldn't help but once again realize how foolhardy he had been in coming here without telling anyone.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Joe felt the ship lurch and he grabbed hold of the desk as the tray with his breakfast slid to the floor. Soon, the captain's voice came across the ship's PA system telling everyone to abandon ship.

"Great!" he grumbled, standing up and going to the porthole to look out. "They're going to drown me." He felt miserable. Dying like this, there was no way his body would ever be found. He really hoped Frank could move on. He knew how obsessive his brother could get and if he weren't completely convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was no way of retrieving him, dead or alive, then Frank would never stop looking.

Joe turned in surprise when he heard the lock on his door move. "Come on, Kid," Matt told him. "We've got to get out of here."

"I thought you were going to leave me!" Joe exclaimed in surprise.

"I'm not finished with you just yet," Matt told him with a quick smile. "Now, let's get off this tub."

Not needing to be told again, Joe moved through the door. "Hold it," Matt ordered him, latching on to his arm. He held up a pair of handcuffs. "You're sticking with me," he said, putting Joe's right wrist in one then attaching the other to his own left wrist. "Now, let's head topside."

Matt took the lead, pulling Joe along at a fast clip. When they reached the deck, Joe pulled Matt to a stop. "How are we supposed to descend the ladder to the boat when we're handcuffed together?" he demanded.

Matt gave Joe a devilish smile and hopped up onto the railing. He pulled Joe up. "We flip," he said, snagging Joe's handcuffed hand with his own. Seconds later, they both leapt off of the railing, flipping in midair once before falling onto an empty lifeboat.

"You will have to help paddle," Matt told Joe. Together, they made their way away from the sinking ship.

Joe was relieved to see land not too far away. He knew now that he must have been on the side of the ship facing the ocean but he could see it was morning and that meant he was in the Pacific. "Hold up a minute," Matt told Joe a few minutes later.

They stopped rowing and Matt took his free hand and reached inside his jacket. He removed a gun and in seconds the two other lifeboats had holes in them. Joe watched in horror as Tippoli and his men drew their weapons but before they could fire, Matt had expertly put a bullet into each man. The ship's crew on the second lifeboat ripped off their life vests and dove into the water to avoid the fire. Matt dropped his empty weapon to the floor of the lifeboat and drew another gun.

Having seen too much, Joe made a grab for the new weapon but Matt smashed it onto the side of Joe's head. Joe heard more shots as everything faded to black.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Frank started driving, making turns without even being told. He knew exactly where he was supposed to go and in less than forty minutes he stopped the van in the drive at Sorrel's mansion. He was escorted inside to Sorrel's study where the man was sitting at his desk; his gaze aimed at his computer screen.

"Sir," Piers said, interrupting Sorrel's concentration.

Sorrel turned to face them. His eyes were hard and his features marred by a troubled scowl. "Why?" he demanded, his nostrils flaring as he glared at Frank. "Why couldn't you and your father have stayed out of this?"

"Because it's my brother who is involved," Frank answered, his own ire up.

"Because of your interference Tippoli now has reason to believe I set him up!" thundered Sorrel. "You may never see Joe again!"

"Dad and the FBI have gone to Maine..." Frank began.

"Only to find an empty house," Sorrel snapped, finishing Frank's sentence. Frank fell silent as Sorrel continued. "We had agreed to a meeting. Joe would have accompanied me back but now Tippoli, his key men, and Joe, have all vanished. The Coraline, his yacht, was where he was expected to go but my men have reported that it has remained deserted."

"Do you honestly believe Tippoli would just let you go and get Joe and leave?" demanded Frank. "Kern..."

"Has nothing to do with this!" Sorrel screeched. Sorrel stopped speaking and took a deep calming breath. He leaned back in his chair before exhaling. "Kern worked for me and he was caught. Tippoli let me know that Kern had been released, unharmed. He has a man in his ranks that he suspects is a traitor and this man isn't working for me. He is the man who set Kern up," Sorrel explained. "Matt Horace has been very discreet but Tippoli got wise to him while he was searching his ranks for my spy. Horace is more of a threat. Tippoli believes, as do I, that Horace is planning something major against both of us. Tippoli took your brother as an inducement for me to meet with him."

"But why Joe?" Frank demanded. "He and Marie aren't even dating anymore."

"Because Horace suggested him," Sorrel answered. "Obviously, your brother is a player in whatever Horace is planning."

"Can you arrange another meeting?" asked Frank anxiously.

"I have been trying to do so," Sorrel answered with a weary sigh. "But all I have is an e-mail address. Since the raid on Tippoli's Maine camp this morning I have sent an e-mail every thirty minutes but have yet to receive a reply."

"What do you know about Matt Horace?" inquired Frank, worry lines well pronounced on his forehead.

"Nothing," Sorrel answered. "Tippoli was going to let me see everything he had gathered on the man at our meeting."

"And we blew it," Frank said softly.

"Indeed," agreed Sorrel.

"What happens now?" asked Frank.

"Now I wait for Tippoli to contact me," Sorrel answered. "And you find out all you can about Matt Horace and who he is really working for."

Frank left Sorrel's shortly after that and drove straight home. "Has dad called yet?" he asked his mother who hurried to the door to greet him.

"No," Laura told him, her tone revealing immense displeasure. "Where did you go?" she demanded. "You said you were going to Callie's. She called to talk to you about an hour ago. I've been worried sick!"

"I'm sorry," apologized Frank, putting an arm around his mother's shoulders and leading her back into the living room. He told her where he had been, leaving out the part where Piers and his buddy had hijacked him.

"Why did you go and see Sorrel?" Laura demanded.

"Because Kern isn't the reason Joe was taken," Frank answered. "And no," he continued before she could ask. "I don't know why he was but once we find out all we can about Matt Horace then we may know. I'm going to go to Dad's office and see what I can find out online," he said, kissing her forehead before putting action to his words.

Frank went straight to his father's office and started a web-wide search for Matt Horace. He had barely begun when the phone on the desk rang. "Dad?" Frank answered the phone, expecting it to be his father. His face paled and the hand holding the receiver grew sweaty as a familiar voice from the not so distant past entered his ear.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Joe groaned and opened his eyes. He reached up and gingerly touched the side of his head. It was not sticky as he had thought or had it even the feel of dried blood. Instead, he found his head had been bandaged. He sat up slowly and looked around. He was in a small room with no windows. The walls were a gray cinderblock and the only furniture present was the army-style cot he lay on.

His clothing had been removed only to be replaced with a pair of green boxers and a white tank shirt. He got to his feet, tossing the quilt he had been covered up with aside and made his way to the door. Twisting the knob he was not surprised to find it locked. He knocked on the door, wincing as the sound echoed in the room.

The door opened almost immediately and Matt entered the room with another man. "Hello, Joe," Matt greeted him. "This is Dr. Philip Curan," he introduced the man with him. "Dr. Curan will be taking care of you for the next few months."

"I'm not sick," Joe replied, trying to hide the fear he felt when Matt told him how long the doctor was supposed to stay with him.

"No," agreed Matt with a smile. "And hopefully, you will stay well. Dr. Curan is here to help you adjust."

"Adjust to what?" demanded Joe.

Matt smiled at him. "Sorry, Joe," he said. "I don't think you're ready to know just yet."

"You killed all of them," Joe accused Matt, changing the subject because he doubted he would get anything out of Matt that Matt didn't want him to know. "Even the crew and the captain. Why?"

"No witnesses," answered Matt.

"What am I?" asked Joe.

"The prize."

"But I'm worthless now that you've killed Tippoli," Joe argued.

Matt laughed. "Tippoli was a pawn," he told Joe. "I used him to get you. Now everyone will be looking for him."

"And when they find his body?" asked Joe.

"No one will," Matt assured him. "There are a lot of sharks in the ocean and the smell of fresh blood drives them crazy."

"Okay," Joe said slowly. "You killed all of those people just to get me. But why? Why am I the prize as you put it?"

"I told you," Matt said, slowly shaking his head. "You aren't ready to know. Just relax. Dr. Curan will take care of you and make sure you don't hurt yourself."

"I didn't hurt myself," Joe retorted, touching the bandage on his head. "You hit me with your gun."

"Some actions are necessary to ensure the success of the mission," Matt replied with a careless shrug. "But you are still alive and, I've been told, healing nicely. Now, I must leave you. I have some arrangements to attend to," he explained, leaving the room with the doctor still inside and locking the door.

"Back to bed," Dr. Curan ordered Joe. "I want to check your vitals."

"I'm fine," Joe replied, stubbornly refusing to return to the cot.

"We can do this the hard way," Dr. Curan stated, his green eyes serious. "I was chosen to be your doctor because of my martial arts training. I can knock you out in less than five seconds with no after-effects but I would rather keep this as pain free for you as possible."

"Why?" asked Joe, returning to the cot. Even if the doctor was lying, which he doubted, he was twice Joe's size and could probably overpower him without too much effort.

"You are a special guest," the doctor answered, pulling a penlight from a front pocket and shining it in Joe's eyes. "I'm here to help you; not hurt you."

The doctor finished his examination then pulled a syringe from his lab coat pocket. "What's that for?" Joe demanded.

"To make you sleep while we move locations," Curan answered honestly. "Would you rather have drugged food for the next few months or know exactly what is being done to you?" he asked when Joe glared at him.

Knowing he had no real choice, Joe held out his arm. Dr. Curan swiped a spot with a pre-moistened swab and inserted the needle. A few seconds later he helped Joe lay back on the cot. As Joe's eyes flickered shut, he heard the doctor rap on the door and announce that he was ready for transport.


	19. Chapter 19

"Frank, we need to talk," the Gray Man's voice filtered through the phone line. "Cease searching for information on Matt Horace. I'm on my way to Bayport,. I will be there by eight tonight. If your father is back, have him wait for me."

"Matt's an Assassin," Frank guessed, his face pale. It had been horrible to find out his brother's natural mother was the head of the Assassins and wanted Joe to take over but when she had been arrested, he, his father, and the Network had all assumed Hardin's second in command would take over leadership. Had Joe been taken for revenge? And why were the Assassins getting involved in a Mafia dispute?

"More than that," Gray told him cryptically. "But I will fill you in tonight," he said before hanging up.

The phone rang again almost as soon as Frank hung up. "Frank?" Fenton's voice came through. "Joe.."

"Wasn't there, I know," Frank cut him off. "You had better come home," he continued. "I have a lot to tell you and we're having some very important company later. You need to be here."

"I'll be home by six," Fenton promised.

After Frank hung up, he logged off and leaned back in his father's chair with a heavy sigh. How was he going to tell his mom?

"Frank?" Laura poked her head in Fenton's office. "Was one of those calls from your father?"

"Yes," acknowledged Frank. "He'll be home by six."

"Have you already found out about that Horace man?" she asked, coming all the way inside the office and seeing the computer screen flashing its saver.

"Some," Frank admitted. "But someone is coming by tonight around eight who can tell us a lot more."

"The other phone call?" Laura guessed. Frank nodded. "Who?" she asked.

"Arthur Gray," Frank answered, using the Gray man's pseudonym.

"The Network?" Laura gasped, her eyes going wide. "The Assassins have Joe? But...but Tippoli?" she begged, not wanting her son in the Assassins' possession even for a second.

"Still has Joe," Frank calmed her. "Apparently, one of his men is an Assassin."

"Why would he have an Assassin in his organization?" Laura asked in confusion. "I thought the Assassins had their own group."

"They do," acknowledged Frank. "Which means Sorrel was right. Horace does have his own agenda."

"Frank, your brother," Laura said, feeling feint. "The Assassins. That woman...she..she is in prison, still. Isn't she?"

"Yes, mom," Frank said with a nod.

"Then why take your brother?" she asked. "Revenge? They won't kill him, will they? Not when he's her son. Unlesss..unless she no longer has anything to do with them and they have cut her off entirely. They wouldn't do that. Would they?" she demanded fearfully.

"Mom," Franks aid, not wanting to answer. The truth was, the Assassins would kill themselves to avoid capture. He wouldn't put it past the Assassins to have taken Joe to force Lauren Hardin to kill herself rather than remain a prisoner.

When Fenton arrived home, Frank filled him in on everything he had learned. "Where there any leads about where Joe might be?" he asked his father when he had finished.

Fenton sighed wearily and rubbed the back of his neck. "Tippoli rented a ship from the Primal Reef Rental Agency," he informed Frank and Laura, who had joined them half way through Frank's litany. "The coast guard is looking for the ship but haven't had any luck so far."

"What next?" Laura asked.

"That depends on what Gray tells us," Fenton said, looking at his watch. "He should be here before long," he said. "I think I will go have a shower and change."

Gray arrived at eight on the nose. Frank answered the door. "Does this have to do with Joe being Lauren's son?" Frank demanded before Gray had passed through the doorway.

"Yes," Gray acknowledged. "Is your father here?"

"In the living room," Frank said, feeling sick. He had been right. Horace had wanted Joe to get at Lauren.

"Well?" Laura demanded after everyone was seated. She had refused to be left out of the conversation and had told Fenton in no uncertain terms right before Gray had arrived to not even attempt to exclude her.

"Matt Horace is an Assassin," Gray began. "But Horace isn't his real name."

"Then what is it?" Laura asked.

"Matt Hardin," Gray announced. "He's Joe's older brother."


	20. Chapter 20

Joe awoke feeling disoriented. He started to get up but a strong hand prevented the action. "Dr. Curan," Joe said as his eyes focused.

"Relax, Joe," Curan told him. "You'll get sick if you move too fast."

"Where am I?" Joe asked, doing as he had been told.

"We're in a cabin near the border of Tibet," Curan informed Joe. Joe's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide in shock. "You're just here until you come to terms with your destiny," Curan assured him, going over and picking up a syringe from the dresser and a bottle. He filled the syringe and picked up a pre-moistened swab from a little jar and returned to Joe's side.

"You're putting me back to sleep?" Joe demanded in disbelief. How was he supposed to come to terms if he was never conscious?

"No," Curan denied with a small shake of his head. "This will help you to accept your future."

"What future?" Joe asked fearfully.

"I can't tell you," Curan said. "Matt will when he feels you are ready."

"You're not giving me any more drugs," Joe snarled, tossing his quilt off and jumping to his feet.

Joe's forward movement was halted when Curan grabbed his arm and yanked him back onto the bed. Before Joe could resist, Curan was sitting on top of him and injecting the needle into his upper arm. "There, that wasn't so bad," Curan said when he had finished. "You are all done for this morning," he added, getting off of Joe. "I suggest you shower and get dressed. Breakfast will be ready soon and you will be joining Matt in the kitchen."

Curan exited the room, locking Joe inside, and went to the living room where Matt sat with three other members of the Assassins. "How is he doing?" Matt inquired.

"He's healthy," Curan answered. "And he has now had four injections," he continued. "But I think it is going to be harder to turn him than we at first thought."

"Then we shall just have to obtain a little incentive," Matt replied with a small shrug. He looked at one of the three other men. "Take care of it."

"As you wish, Sir," was the response. The man stood and left the room. Minutes later the hooves of a horse could be heard galloping away.

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Frank snagged the phone when it rang as he walked by it on his way into the kitchen the next morning. "Hello?"

"Frank?" Camille's worried voice reached his ear. "Have you found Joe yet?"

"No," he answered. "But his abduction doesn't have anything to do with the case your dad is residing over."

"Then why was he taken?" Camille demanded curiously.

"It's a long story," Frank replied wearily. "But don't ask Joe about it," he begged her. "It's more than a little upsetting."

"Does it have anything to do with Iola?" she asked.

"In a way," Frank admitted. "Maybe."

"Is there any way I can help?" Camille practically begged.

"No," Frank replied. "But thanks for offering."

"Will you be at school today?" she asked him.

"Unfortunately," Frank answered. "Dad's gathering some information but there isn't anything I can do at this point."

"And doing nothing will drive you crazy," she guessed.

"Pretty much, yeah," he acknowledged.

"I'll see you at school then," Camille told him before hanging up.

"Who was on the phone?" Laura asked as Frank entered the kitchen.

"Joe's new girlfriend," answered Frank. "I think."

"You think?" Laura asked, raising an eyebrow.

Frank shrugged. "They haven't actually gone out yet but she really likes Joe. And," he added. "I think she's the type of girl Joe could really get into." He sat down at the breakfast table. "Has Dad called yet?" he asked. Fenton had left with Gray the night before with the promise to call as soon as he found out something.

"No," Laura replied with a frown. "Frank," she began hesitantly after a few seconds of silence. "Do you think Matt will kill Joe?"

"No," Frank answered at once. He had thought about it all night long and drawn the most logical conclusion that he could. "He probably took Joe because Lauren asked him to," he said.

"I don't understand why she wanted Joe to take over as the head of the Assassins when Matt is older than Joe," Laura said.

"Maybe Dad will find out when he questions Lauren," Frank replied. He had been wondering the same thing himself.


	21. Chapter 21

At lunch, Frank brought everyone up to date on what was happening with Joe. "They just have to make Joe's life miserable, don't they?" Chet demanded with a scowl.

"Hold it!" ordered Camille. "Who is this Lauren and why does she keep kidnapping Joe?"

"She didn't this time; Matt did," Phil clarified.

Camille glared at him while Callie shot Frank a questioning look. Frank gave her a slight nod and she smiled. She was growing to like Camille and thought she should know about Joe. "Camille," she said, drawing the redhead's attention away from Phil. "It's too long of a story to tell you now but, if you like, I will drive you home from school and tell you about it then?"

"Please," Camille acknowledged the offer. She hadn't even been out with Joe yet but from the way his friends were reacting to his disappearance she could tell that he was a very special person and she looked forward to getting to know him better. As the bell rang announcing the end of lunch, she started counting the minutes until the end of the school day.

"Ready?" asked Callie, meeting Camille just outside of the front entrance of school that afternoon.

"I was ready at lunchtime," Camille told her. She would gladly have skipped her afternoon classes to find out more about Joe.

Callie began telling Camille about Joe's being switched at birth on the way to Shore Road. "And Mr. and Mrs. Hardy found out about it when Joe was a kid?" Camille gasped. "Why didn't they tell him? Eight years was old enough."

"Because...uh-oh," Callie broke off and slowed the car down when she saw a traffic check ahead.

"What's wrong?" Camille asked, looking at the frown that had just crossed Callie's face.

"I forgot my purse at home," Callie confessed. "No license. But don't worry," she said. "I think we can go around."

"How?" demanded Camille. "They usually set up an alternate check on the side roads so you can't go around."

"I'm not taking a side road. It's part of a private drive," Callie explained as she pulled off of the main road. A few minutes later she was back on the main drag and telling Camille more about Joe. By the time Callie pulled to a stop in the Lane driveway, Camille knew as much about Joe's relationship to the Assassins as did Callie.

"Would you like to come inside for awhile?" Camille invited Callie. "The traffic check probably won't last very long."

"Sure," Callie agreed. The two girls exited the car and made their way to the back door.

"I have an idea," Camille said, her eyes twinkling. "Why don't we..."

"Don't make a sound," a disembodied voice interrupted her. Both girls froze. They heard a slight rustling sound and then both were turned around to face their attackers. "What is your name?" demanded one of the two men present of Callie.

"Find out!" she hissed angrily. She was shoved roughly against the back door and the stranger's hands checked all her pockets.

"Nothing," he told his partner who had been giving the same treatment to Camille.

"No ID on this one either," the man's partner stated.

"Then we will have to take them both," the other man said. "No witnesses and we can't kill the wrong one."


	22. Chapter 22

"Well?" demanded Frank when his father called that night. "What did you find out?"

"From Lauren? Nothing," Fenton growled in disgust. "She wouldn't even open her mouth to tell me off."

"But you do know something?" Frank pushed, a surge of excitement coursing through him.

"This line isn't secure," Fenton said. "I'll be home soon," he promised.

"All right," Frank acknowledged with a disappointed sigh. He was no more eager to let the Assassins know anything than his father was.

Frank hung up but picked up the receiver again almost immediately when it rang beneath his fingers. "Frank?"

"Mr. Sorrel," Frank returned, recognizing the speaker at once.

"I have some disturbing information. Tippoli's body, or what was left of it, I should say, washed up on the beach this afternoon," Sorrel informed Frank.

"I'm not surprised," Frank replied, running a hand through his already mussed up brown hair. "Matt Horace is really an Assassin and his entire involvement with Tippoli was to get at Joe."

"But why?" an intrigued Sorrel inquired.

"The Assassins want Joe to be one of them," Frank answered truthfully.

"Never happen," Sorrel dismissed the idea. "Your brother has too much integrity," he stated from experience. "That's one of the reasons I decided to send Marie back to boarding school."

"Thank you," Frank replied, grinning. "You're right. He does."

"Is there any way I can help?" Sorrel inquired. "I do feel responsible for his disappearance."

Frank bit his tongue. It would have been so easy to blame Sorrel for letting Tippoli use Joe as a pawn but the truth was that Matt would have found some other way to get Joe. "It isn't your fault," Frank finally admitted. "Joe was the target. Matt would have gotten him somehow."

"I do have one more bit of news," Sorrel said. "And it is entirely due to you that I obtained the information."

"What is it?" Frank asked, puzzled.

"The security guard that witnessed Kern leaving Jordan's home the night of the murder had only been working there for two weeks. His references for the job included one Matthew Orache. That's Horace with a couple of letters transposed."

"I thought Kern was innocent," Frank said. "Matt killed, or had someone kill Jordan just to get you and Tippoli interested." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "Thank you."

"Of course," Sorrel replied. "Frank," he continued. "I don't like being played. I intend to help."

"Please don't," Frank begged. "Joe..."

"Will not be endangered," Sorrel promised.

"You can't guarantee that," Frank argued.

"But I can guarantee the choice isn't yours," Sorrel retorted before hanging up.

Frank scowled at the receiver before slamming it down. 'Another problem!' thought Frank. He started to move away from the phone but was once again forced to pick up the receiver when it rang. "Hello?" he snapped, not ready for more bad news.

"Frank?" Chief Collig asked, a bit shocked at the anger in the youth's voice.

"Chief?" Frank said, calming down a bit. "What's up?" he asked. "Have you found out anything?"

"Just more bad news, I'm afraid," Chief Collig replied. "Camille Lane and Callie Shaw were abducted from the Lane residence this afternoon."


	23. Chapter 23

When Fenton arrived home later that night he found Frank sitting on the sofa with his head lying back and his eyes closed. Laura got up from the easy chair and rushed to Fenton's side. "Has something else happened?" Fenton asked after giving Laura a quick kiss. He could sense the tension radiating from his son.

"Callie and Camille were kidnapped," Frank answered, opening his bloodshot eyes and looking at his father. "And Sorrel insists on helping."

"How about you?" Laura asked as she and Fenton sat down. "Please say you have some good news?"

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"Wake up, Joe," Dr. Curan said, shaking Joe's shoulder. "Lunch will be ready soon."

"Lu...lunch?" Joe stuttered, opening his eyes slowly. His tongue felt a bit thick. "We...we just had breakfast."

"That was yesterday," Curan told him. "You've been asleep for almost twenty-four hours."

"You...you drugged me a...again," Joe protested.

"Matt insisted that your medication be increased," Curan informed Joe. "The side effects, drowsiness, metal mouth, etc., will wear off as you grow more accustomed."

"I don't want...want to grow a...a...accos... used to it," argued Joe, sitting up.

"You won't be on it too long," Curan assured him. "I think six months at the most. Of course," he added, smiling. "Matt is brilliant. You may be off of it within a month."

Joe felt like he should b e angry and terrified at the doctor's words but for some reason he just didn't have the emotional energy to expend. He got out of bed and went to shower and get ready for the day.

"Hello, Joe," Matt greeted him half an hour later when Joe entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. Joe gave him a nod to acknowledge the greeting but kept his mouth shut. He had brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash but his tongue still felt too big for his mouth and the taste of copper would not disappear.

Joe tried to eat the plate of food set before him but the metal aftertaste of the medicine left him with no appetite. After the table had been cleared, matt smiled at Joe. "It's time to begin your training," he said.

"What training?" Joe asked, not realizing it was getting easier to speak.

"To be an Assassin."

"I'm not going to be an Assassin," Joe refused, glaring at Matt. "Why do you want me to be one anyway? Lauren is in prison."

"Not for long," Matt told him. "We can't let our mother rot behind bars, can we?"

"Our mother?" gasped Joe.

"That's right," Matt acknowledged with a nod. "I'm your big brother by about five years."

"If that's true, then why did Lauren want me to become the leader of the Assassins?" demanded Joe suspiciously.

"Because I had already told her I preferred working in the field," Matt explained. "I don't mind being in charge, I would just rather not."

"I won't lead the Assassins," Joe stated firmly.

"No," agreed Matt. "I have already accepted the crown, so to speak. But as a member of this family you will take your place in the organization."

"I'm not a killer," Joe declared. Again, he felt like he should be screaming but instead he just sat calmly discussing the matter.

"Not yet," Matt agreed, standing up. "Come, Little Brother," he said. "We have two guests I would like for you to meet."

Matt led Joe to a door just past his own room's door and rapped on it. The door was opened by a fully armed Assassin. Matt went inside with Joe following.

"Callie! Camille!" Joe gasped in surprised horror, seeing the two girls bound in two chairs near the wall. "Why are they here?" he demanded, turning on Matt. "They have nothing to do with this."

"Ah, but they do," Matt disagreed. "You see, brother dear, you will begin your training immediately and you will do your best. If at any time I think you are not trying then one of these lovely ladies will die. Mess up a second time and the other will die."


	24. Chapter 24

Joe looked back at the two girls. What choice did he have? "Dr. Curan," Matt called out. In seconds the man entered the room. "Give Joe his medication," he ordered. "And then have Ren and Sampson take Joe to the range to begin his training."

"Where are you going?" Joe asked.

"To make sure the Hardys have arrived at the wrong destination," Matt answered.

"Leave them alone!" Joe shouted. This time his anger did permeate his fogged mind.

"Sorry, Little Brother," Matt said. "No can do. But you need to concentrate on those two," he added, nodding at the girls. "Or you will be the one killing them."

"One of the Network agents reported in that there had been a burst of activity near the Tibetan border," Fenton informed Frank and Laura. "The agent was positive Joe is being held there."

"When is the Network moving in?" Laura asked, hoping it would be soon.

"They aren't," Fenton replied. "They have absolutely no jurisdiction in the area and if any US agents are caught in the area then one of the treaties the US has with the Tibetan government will be violated."

"But we are going," Frank declared.

"Absolutely," concurred Fenton. "Call your friends and ask them to come over but don't tell them why. I am going to run over to Sam Radley's and have him make the arrangements. I don't trust our phone lines."

"But Sam's are all right?" Laura asked, unable to believe her husband would trust his line of communication either.

"He won't be at home when he makes the arrangements," Fenton promised, kissing the top of her head. "I should be back in an hour," he continued, looking at Frank. "Try to have Chet, Biff, Tony and Phil here."

Frank pulled out is cell and began dialing as his father left the house. "I'll make some sandwiches," Laura said, heading into the kitchen. She hated doing nothing. At least she could feed the small army that would rescue her son.

Later that evening, after Fenton had explained the situation to his sons' friends, he looked at them with a solemn face. "You all know how dangerous the Assassins are," he said. "And if you choose not to help no one will blame you. This mission will be dangerous and we will have no back up."

"No way I'm not going," Biff stated firmly. "Joe would do everything in his power, legal or not, to rescue one of us if we were in trouble." The others all agreed and so Fenton divulged the plans of their departure from Bayport the next morning.

"Why do we have to wait until tomorrow?" Chet asked. "Since we are driving to New York, we could do that tonight."

"We're driving to the city and catching the subway to throw off anyone who might be following us," Fenton explained. "We have to know where to go for the next leg of our journey before we leave because none of us will be together once we get to the subway."

"And we won't know all of the plans for the trip until Sam contacts us," Frank added.

"So, go home and get some rest then be in the parking lot of the Baptist Church on Pine Street at ten fifteen. Frank and I will be a little late, but it will look like you boys are going to church so that if anyone is following you they should call it quits when you go in for Sunday school."

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"Finally!" Frank breathed softly, sitting down next to his father on the plane. "We've spent all day going from one city to another just to wind up in Southport."

"The idea was to confuse anyone who was watching," Fenton reminded his son. "I'd say Sam did a good job."

"I'll agree to that when we land," Frank said, frowning. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You sound like your brother," Fenton told him with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I hope this time it only sounds like," Frank retorted. "Joe's feelings are generally right on the money."

They fastened their safety belts and prepared for take off. "I wish this had been a private plane," Frank commented, his eyes filled with worry.

"Me too," concurred Fenton. "But a private plane would have been too obvious. Besides, we have two layovers. One even requires us to take a taxi to another airport in a neighboring city."

As time passed, Frank's initial fear waned, and as they began the last leg of their journey he could recognize none of their earlier passenger mates except for his friends. "Almost there," he said in relief as the plane took off.

After the light at the front of the plane was turned off, one of the passengers from the front row got up and went to the restroom. Frank watched him walk by then turned to Phil who was sitting by the window. "I hope it doesn't take too long to locate Joe and the girls once we land," he said.

"You really think Callie and Camille are there too?" asked Phil.

"Mmm-hmm," Frank acknowledged with a nod. "They need someone expendable to keep Joe in line. Let's face it," he continued. "Joe doesn't even think about his own safety but when someone else is in danger, he will do whatever he has to do to keep that person alive."

"This is your captain speaking," the public address system boomed, preventing further conversation. "We will be making a slight detour. Please remain in your seats until further notice."

Fenton scowled. Something wasn't right. He stood up and stepped into the aisle, making for the cockpit, but he got no more than two steps before four men rose from their seats, each sporting weapons.

"Airplanes belonging to small airports with no major carrier lack security, Mr. Hardy," one of the men stated smugly. "Sit back down or everyone on board will die."


	25. Chapter 25

"Okay, Joe. We are going to do a little target practice," Sampson told Joe, holding out a rifle to the youth.

"Aren't you afraid I'll use it on you and your pal?" Joe asked, glaring at the six foot seven giant.

"No," Sampson denied, shaking his baldhead and grinning. "You don't want your two friends inside to die."

Joe growled and jerked the rifle from Sampson's hands. "Do your best," Joe was told. "Our orders are that if we think you are not giving it all you've got then we alert Dr. Curan and Cory back at the cabin and they take care of one of your friends."

Sampson waited for Joe to comment but after a brief silence lifted a walkie-talkie up and spoke into it. "We're ready," he stated. "Two at two minute intervals."

"Here they come, Joe," Sampson said. "Get ready."

Joe lifted the rifle and fired as two disks appeared in the air. He missed the first but struck the second. "Very good," Sampson congratulated him. "It didn't take you long at all to adapt to the rifle."

Joe kept quite. He wanted to rebel. He wanted to strike out at Sampson and take his chances. He wanted to come up with a plan to free the girls but his desire to follow instructions was just too overwhelming. It had to be the medication that Curan was giving him. He didn't know what it was but it made him feel disconnected somehow. Not exactly like a zombie, but close.

Joe fired off two more shots, hitting his targets each time. Sampson handed him another loaded rifle and took the one Joe had. Joe was only vaguely aware that he had traded off once before. He hated feeling this way but he didn't have the emotional energy to fight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Poor Joe," Camille whispered after their guard left the room and locked them inside. "We've got to do something."

"I know," agreed Callie. "He looks all doped up."

"That's because he is!" snapped Camille. "You heard that awful man tell that other one to give him his medication. I sincerely doubt it's anything to help him."

"True," Callie agreed with her yet again. "But whatever they are giving him won't hurt him."

"How do you know that?" Camille demanded, ceasing her struggles with the ropes that bound her and turning to look at Callie with wide eyes.

"Because he called Joe his little brother," Callie replied. "He must be Joe's natural brother and that means he won't hurt Joe."

"No," Camille stated grimly. "Just us. We've got to get free and get Joe and get as far away from here as we can."

She and Callie quit talking and devoted all their energy to getting loose. It took some time, but Camille finally managed to get one hand free. "Success!" she gave a whispered shout, holding up her free hand to show Callie. Callie grinned and relaxed as Camille used her free hand to finish freeing herself. Camille rose slowly to her feet, wincing as her legs experienced the pins and needles associated with the return of circulation.

"Okay, let's get you loose and then we can plan our next move," Camille said to Callie, squatting down to untie her.

"You know, if you're going to date Joe, this is only a sample of what you're getting into," Callie warned Camille once she had been freed.

"You're still dating Frank," Camille pointed out.

"He's worth the extra effort," Callie stated.

"And I have the feeling that Joe is too," Camille replied. "Besides, you know what they say: The course of true love never did run smooth."

"You're in love with Joe?" Callie demanded, a little in worry but more in disbelief.

"Of course not," Camille dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. "I don't believe in that love at first sight nonsense. But I do believe anything worth having is worth working for and if Joe and I do fall in love then this will be nothing more than a story to tell our kids."

"Oh, yeah," Callie said, laughing softly. "You and Joe age going to get along great."

"Enough of the chitchat," Camille said. "Let's figure out how to get out of here."

"One of us could pretend to be sick," suggested Callie. "But we would still have to be able to overpower Bluto."

"Bluto?" Camille demanded, looking perplexed.

"As in the big brute from the Popeye cartoons," Callie said.

"I don't think just pretending you're sick is going to do it," Camille said, ignoring the reference. "These guys are Assassins, right?" Callie nodded. "Well, they won't care. Not unless they think one of us is dying and only then because they are using us to control Joe."

"We can work with that," Callie acknowledged, nodding. "But Bluto?"

Camille smiled. "Bet you didn't know I was a black belt," she stated.

"Then why didn't you takeout those goons who grabbed us?" Callie demanded angrily.

"Because I thought they would bring us to Joe," Camille snapped. "And they did."

Callie opened her mouth then closed it almost immediately. She just knew she had been privy to a conversation paralleling this one between Frank and Joe and Joe had won. "Okay," she said after taking a calming breath. "Be ready." Camille nodded and went to stand near the door.

"HELP!" Callie screamed. "Help! She's having a seizure!" No movement from outside the door could be heard. "I can't believe this," she said softly before raising her voice and trying again. "Help! She's swallowing her tongue!"

The door opened and Bluto entered followed by Dr. Curan. Callie watched in surprise as Camille took down the two men in less than a minute by two well-place blows.

"I'm impressed," Callie said, smiling in amazement. "You're even better than Frank."

"Frank's into martial arts?" Camille asked as they exited the room and locked the door.

"Yes," Callie affirmed. "I'm beginning to think you'll fit in nicely with our clique."

Camille stopped moving and turned too look at Callie, her eyes moist. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

"Where do you think they took Joe?" Callie asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Two shots echoed from outside. "Not too far," Camille returned.

The two girls made their way outside and through a patch of woods to a clearing where they saw Joe with a rifle in his hands. They watched as he lifted it quickly, sited, and fired off two shots.

"Let's take out the guy over there first," Callie pointed to where one man was rigging the discs.

Camille gave her a thumbs up and the two girls advanced on the oblivious man. As they neared, Callie moved to the right while Camille crept up on the left. "Hi," Callie said, smiling at the man as she came into his line of view.

The man leapt to his feet only to fall forward as a blow from Camille rendered him unconscious. "Now to get Joe," Camille said, turning to look at him and the other man in the distance. "Same scenarios?" she asked, turning to look at Callie and quirking an eyebrow.

"Won't work," Callie replied, shaking her head. "They are in a clearing. Granted, it's a small one, but there is no way we could take them by surprise."

"We will just have to go in from the back then," Camille said, realizing Callie was right. "And pray that creep doesn't turn around."

"Here you go," Sampson said, handing Joe the loaded rifle and taking the empty. "You're good. I think it's time we speeded it up." He lifted his walkie. "Let's step it up a bit," he spoke into it. He waited. Silence. "Acknowledge," he ordered. Silence.

Immediately, he dropped the talkie and the empty rifle and reached for his waist where two loaded pistols were nestled between his pants and skin. At the same time he lifted his left leg and stuck it behind Joe's right knee and pulled. Joe went down. In two more seconds, Sampson was facing the girls who were now frozen only a few feet away.

"Tsk, tsk," Sampson said mockingly. "You had to be stupid. Now one of you must die."

"No!" Joe shouted fearfully, attempting to rise.

Sampson planted his foot on Joe's back. "We only wanted one of you anyway," he said, aiming his right pistol at Callie's chest.


	26. Chapter 26

Fenton's eyes hardened but he did as instructed. "Did you think we would go to so much trouble to get Joe and then just let you take him back?" the Assassin asked in a mocking voice.

"How did you find us?" demanded Frank, glaring with hatred at the smug thug.

"What was there to find?" the Assassin countered. "There are only four ways you could legally enter Tibet," he explained. "We merely covered every possible one."

"All that running around for nothing," moaned Chet softly.

"Are you taking us to where you're holding Joe?" asked Frank.

"Joseph is no longer any of your concern," was the reply.

"He's my son!" snarled Fenton, leaping to his feet once again. "He will always be my concern."

"Not when you're dead," the Assassin reminded him calmly.

Fenton moved into the aisle but stopped when he heard the click of a safety being released from behind him. The man who had gone to the restroom and returned was also an Assassin.

"I believe you were ordered to stay put or everyone would die," the man stated.

"You're Assassins," Fenton returned in a voice just as calm as the antagonists. "You will kill everyone on board this plane who isn't one of you anyway."

"No they won't," declared one of the more timid looking passengers. In seconds there was an all out battle in the fuselage as everyone joined in the fight. Frank didn't know who was helping them ward off the Assassin's attack but it was obvious they knew who the enemy was. All Frank knew with certainty was that there were no 'innocent' passengers on the flight. 'Or pilots!' Frank realized with clarity, his eyes widening as the plane began to dive.

"We've got to get to the cockpit," Frank told Biff who had just knocked one Assassin over a seat. "They'll destroy themselves and the plane if that's what it takes to eliminate us."

Biff gave a curt nod, all too aware of the suicide technique of the Assassins. He helped Frank clear a path to the pilot's cabin. "It's locked," growled Frank.

"Move aside," ordered Biff. Frank stepped away from the door and grinned as Biff took two steps back then gave a jump and a vigorous kick that splintered the frame on the door.

Frank prepared himself for a fight but it was too late: the pilot had already died from cyanide poisoning. "Keep everyone out," Frank ordered Biff, hauling the dead Assassin from his seat and sitting down at the controls. "I'm going to try and land this thing."

The fight continued on for a few more minutes but it was obvious that, although prepared, the Assassins hadn't counted on all the passengers being on the Hardys' side. As Frank brought the plane under control and radioed the airport for instructions, the Assassins began falling.

"What the..." broke off one man as his opponent crumbled to the floor of the plane before he could land another punch.

"No one takes an Assassin alive," Fenton said with some satisfaction.

"It's over," Biff informed Frank. "They're all dead."

"Tell everyone to buckle up," Frank said. "It's going to be a bumpy landing. Some of the controls have been ripped out."

"Who are you?" Fenton asked as one of the other passengers took the seat beside him after Biff relayed Frank's instructions.

"David Poplin," the man answered. "Mr. Sorrel ordered us to keep track of you and help to rescue Joe."

"Why?" Fenton demanded angrily. "My son is nothing to Sorrel!"

"Matt Horace..er...Hardin, used the boss," Poplin explained. "No one gets away with that even if it means helping the enemy."

"I see," Fenton said. "Please tell Mr. Sorrel that I, and my family, are very grateful for his help."

"It ain't over yet," Poplin said. "Not until Joe has been recovered. Would you care to fill us in on the mission or would you rather we follow you again?"

Fenton gave the matter serious consideration but came to the conclusion that they did, indeed, need Sorrel's men. His pride and morals would not come before the safe return of his son. There was no telling how well protected Joe would be and then there were the two girls to worry about as well. He fully believed they had been taken to keep Joe compliant and so would be kept near him. With a nod of acceptance to his new companion, Fenton began sharing the knowledge of the encampment where Joe was being kept.


	27. Chapter 27

Change Chapter Twenty-Seven by hbwgonnabe

"No!" screamed Joe, wriggling for all he was worth. He tried his best to unbalance Sampson but the foot in the small of his back would not budge.

Sampson pulled the trigger as Camille screamed. Callie's eyes closed. She had imagined dying trying to save her boyfriend a time or two but never trying to save his brother! 

A shot rang out and Callie waited for the impact that would end her life. 'What was taking so long?' she wondered just before something hit her from the side. She opened her eyes as she fell to the ground and saw Camille lying on top of her.

"What..." Callie began but Camille shushed her.

"Stay down," Camille warned her as several more gunshots could be heard. "It sounds like we're in the middle of a war."

Callie turned her head and looked to where she had last seen Joe. He was lying still with his arms covering his head. 'Good idea!' she thought, covering her head as well. The gunfire increased in intensity before subsiding. Eventually, all was quite.

"Joe! Callie! Camille!" Frank's voice rang out.

Joe lifted his head cautiously but Callie and Camille both got to their knees. "Frank! Mr. Hardy!" Callie shouted as she saw them, her friends, and several other men enter the clearing from different angles.

Callie leapt to her feet and ran to Frank's side while Camille got to her feet and raced to where Joe was just now sitting up. "Are you okay?" she asked him in concern, pushing a stray lock of blond hair from his eyes.

"You escaped," Joe said, looking at her through glazed eyes. "Cool."

"Son, are you alright?" demanded Fenton, arriving and kneeling down beside Camille to look at Joe.

Joe looked up at his father. "Hi, Dad," he said, smiling. "I'm glad you could make it."

"What's wrong with him?" Frank asked, his forehead creased in worry as he and Callie joined them.

"They've been drugging him," Camille answered.

"Whatever they gave him appears to have made him mellow," Fenton observed with a frown. "We should get him to a doctor."

"No," objected Joe. "Please? I'll be okay once it's worn off. Can't we just go home?"

"What about the Assassins?" asked Callie looking around nervously. "Shouldn't we get out of here?"

"You mean there's more?" one of Sorrel's men asked in surprise.

"Doubtful," another answered. "We took out at least twenty since we got here."

"There's more," Joe spoke with conviction. "Matt's the new leader. He would have a lot around here, especially..." he broke off, not wanting to continue.

"Especially since you're here," Frank finished for him, helping Joe to his feet and placing a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Joe's right," he said, looking at his father. "We need to get Joe back to the states as soon as possible."

"Maybe Matt was one of the ones we took down," one of the men said. "We'll check around while you take your sons and friends and get out of here," he added to Fenton.

"Thank you," Fenton acknowledged the offer with gratitude.

"Everyone stay together," Fenton instructed the youths as they entered town a couple of hours later. "I will have to make special arrangements for Joe and the girls since they don't have their passports. While I'm in with the local constable, I don't want any of you wandering off."

"We'll stay put," promised Frank. "Just hurry," he added as his dad stopped the rental van in front of the local jail.

"Can we get out and stretch?" asked Camille after Fenton had gone inside. "We can stay near the van."

"She's got a point," Phil concurred with her request. "It is kind of cramped in here."

"Okay," Frank agreed. "But stay close. And you," he added, looking at his brother. "Stay next to me."

A few minutes after they had exited the van a large group of construction workers rounded the corner and headed their way. "Great," groaned Biff.

"Back in the van," ordered Frank.

Chet climbed in first, taking his seat in the rear of the van followed by Phil. Frank kept Joe by his side since they would be near the front. The construction crew reached the group of kids just after Tony had hopped into the van.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand," Frank said as one of the men tried to ask him something. Two other men gathered closer to Frank, all trying to talk to him.

"Joe!" Frank shouted desperately as the men crowded around the youths left outside of the van and separated them. "Joe!" he shouted again, trying to locate his brother in the horde.

"They have him!" Chet screamed from inside the van. He watched in horror as Joe was forced into a car on the other side of the street. Seconds later, the car was out of sight. 


	28. Chapter 28

"Don't look so sad, little brother," Matt said. "We're family. No one is going to separate us."

"You're not my family," Joe retorted. "The Hardys are."

"Not by blood," Matt stated firmly, knowing even Joe couldn't argue that point.

"They raised me," Joe asserted. "Just because your brother and I were accidentally switched at the hospital doesn't change who I have become."

"That twerp was never my brother," Matt said in distaste with a scowl on his face. "He was always whining. I knew there was something not right about him." He stopped speaking and looked at Joe, his face breaking into a smile. "Now you..." he shook his head in wonder. "You're exactly what I always thought my brother should be like."

Joe sighed. Trying to reason with Matt was getting him nowhere. "Are we going back to the cabin?" he asked.

"No," Matt answered. "That location has been compromised. We lost a lot of good men. Dr. Curan being one of them."

"Am I supposed to be sorry?" Joe retorted, quirking an eyebrow. He still felt drained but he was becoming more cognizant than he had been in days.

"If you were then you wouldn't be Assassin material," Matt replied, grinning when Joe scowled.

"Where are we going now?" Joe demanded.

"Canada," Matt answered. "We have another base there that should work well."

"Sir," the driver interrupted the brothers' conversation. "We're being followed."

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"What's going on out here?" boomed Fenton, exiting the station with the local constable.

The construction crew scattered as Frank leapt behind the wheel of the van. "Matt's got Joe," Callie informed Mr. Hardy who quickly clambered aboard with the rest of the group.

Frank stepped on the gas as the door snapped shut and sped down the street and around the corner, taking the same path the kidnap car had.

"Only one area flat and clear nearby," said the constable who had tagged along. "Eight kilometers."

"If they take off we may lose Joe forever," Fenton said, worry etched all over his face. He doubted Matt would allow so many people to know Joe's whereabouts. Another leak would be impossible.

"They won't take off," Frank bit out, speeding up even more.

"I see them!" Camille shouted, sticking her hand out past Frank's right ear and pointing ahead. "We're catching up with them."

"What the..." Frank snarled, slamming on the brakes and going into a skid as a horse-drawn buggy pulled out onto the main road from a dusty side one.

"Everyone okay?" Fenton demanded as Frank brought the van to a stop.

"I must take care of the buggy's driver," the constable said.

"No!" shouted everyone in the van at the clueless constable as he started to open the door.

Frank threw the van back into gear and mashed the gas as the buggy's driver opened fire. Dust flew as the bullets missed their mark.

"They have too much of a head start now," moaned Chet.

No one said anything as Frank continued at a fast clip. "The next left," said the constable as they neared the field a few minutes later.

Frank took the turn skidding just a bit as the right side of the van rose slightly from the road.

"They're taking off!" Callie screamed.

"No, they're not," growled Frank. His brown eyes were hard and his mouth set in a determined line as he drove the van straight at the taxing plane.

"No!" Oh, God!" "Joe!" were just a few of the vocalizations in the van as the plane lifted into the air, the retreating wheels missing the roof of the van by inches.


	29. Chapter 29

"No!" screamed Frank, balling his hands and slamming his fists on the steering wheel. 

Callie squeezed his shoulder, trying to offer him some measure of comfort. She was trying hard not to cry but felt a tear slip down her cheek. She didn't know if she was more upset because they had lost Joe or if it was because Frank looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"Maybe they left a clue in the car?" Phil suggested.

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"Nothing," Fenton said a little later after he, Frank and the constable had gone over the car's interior.

"Well, a gum wrapper," Frank amended his father's statement, tossing the useless piece of trash to the ground.

"What about where the plane was kept?" Camille asked, her eyes lightning up. "I read a mystery where the crook stashed the cars he stole in one location for a few days until it was safe to relocate them."

"What does that have to do with the plane?" Biff demanded. He wasn't following her at all.

"The detective found where the guy was keeping the cars before moving them to the chop shop," Camille explained. "There was no car there but the detective did end up finding a clue that helped him solve the case."

"It's worth a shot," Frank said, perking up a little. They retraced the path of the plane and found the area where it had been hidden. "Fan out and keep sharp," Frank ordered everyone.

They searched for half a mile in each direction before realizing this, too, was a dead end. The Assassins had been meticulous in keeping the area free of anything other than footprints.

"What do we do now?" Chet asked.

"Go back to the states," Fenton answered, wearily rubbing at the tension induced knot on the back of his neck. "Maybe the Network can help."

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"We're landing!" Joe exclaimed in surprise, looking out of the window. "You said we were going to Canada," he accused Matt, turning to look at him.

"We are," Matt assured him. "We just aren't flying there. Now buckle up," he ordered. "We'll be touching down soon."

After landing at a private airfield, Matt took Joe's wrist and once again put a handcuff on it with the connecting one attached to his own wrist. "Sorry, Little Brother," he apologized. "But until I can trust you not to run away, you will have to remain close to me."

They and five other Assassins exited the plane with the pilot bringing up the rear. They had gotten less than ten yards from the plane when four shots rang out. As four of their group fell to the ground in deadly slumber, Matt took off pulling Joe with him. The pilot kept close on their heels.

"I think we lost them," the pilot gasped almost an hour later. Like Joe, he was a bit out of breath from the fast pace Matt had set and maintained.

"Who were they?" Matt snarled. "And how did they know we were landing there?"

"I told them," the pilot answered smugly, bringing a rock down on the back of Matt's head.

Joe went down with Matt. "Who are you?" he asked. "Network?"

"The only network I work for is run by the Tippoli family," the man replied. "And my orders were to bring you in." He bent down and released Joe.

"What about him?" inquired Joe, looking back at Matt.

"He dies now," was the reply. The man pulled out his gun and took aim.

"NO!" shouted Joe, even as Matt's foot flew up, knocking the weapon away. Matt leapt to his feet and took off running. The pilot latched onto Joe's arm before he, too, could run away. "Don't even think about it," he was warned.

Joe looked into the man's emotionless brown eyes and swallowed. 'From the fire back into the frying pan,' he thought.


	30. Chapter 30

Fenton opened the front door and let Frank and Camille precede him into the house. They had landed in Bayport almost an hour ago and dropped everyone off at their respective homes, except for Camille who was too far out of the way. 

Fenton had wanted to get home and call the Network so Frank had promised to drive Camille home as soon as he had let his mom know he was all right. If his dad returned home alone he knew his mom couldn't help but think that something had happened to him too. She would have to see for herself. Frank knew he could at least save his mother from worrying a little. And besides, Camille had called her father when they touched down in the states so he knew she was okay.

"What took you so long?" Joe greeted them with a grin as they entered the living room.

Frank's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in shock. He stood that way, staring at his brother until a relieved shout erupted from his father who raced to Joe and enveloped him in a strong bear hug. "I was so scared I had lost you," Fenton whispered in a voice thick with emotion.

"You're not that lucky," Joe told him. He had been almost two full days now without the medication Curan had given him, and he was feeling more like his old self.

"Aw, Baby Brother," Frank finally spoke, going to Joe after their father released him and hugging him. "What happened? How did you get away? Where's Matt?"

Joe told him, his father, and Camille about the ambush. "Tippoli's son took over," Joe explained. "He wanted revenge for his father's death so he ordered his men to kill Matt and bring me back. Matt got away but I was brought back to Bayport and dropped off out front," he ended.

"You really do lead an exciting life," Camille commented.

"Just a lot, yeah," agreed Joe, smiling at her. "I'm sorry you got involved in all of this," he told her, growing serious. "And I understand completely if you never want to go out with me."

"After all I've been through?" Camille demanded, her eyes widening in indignation. "You at least owe me dinner and a movie."

"You're serious?" asked Joe in surprise. Camille nodded. Joe looked at his dad and quirked an eyebrow. It was obvious he wanted permission to do this soon. Fenton bowed his head once then left the room to find Laura who was upstairs resting.

"How about Thursday?" asked Joe.

"Why not tomorrow?" Camille countered.

"Gotta give your dad a night with you," Joe explained. "Plus, we all have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."

Camille made a face but didn't dispute the point. "Speaking of my dad, I should really get home," she said.

"I'll take you," Joe and Frank offered at the same time.

Joe glared at his brother. "Or better yet, Joe can take you and I will hit the shower," Frank withdrew his offer.

Joe and Camille left a few minutes later. "Callie told me about your association with the Assassins," Camille said as they neared her house.

"Oh," Joe said dully. He wasn't proud of the relationship even though he knew he wasn't to blame.

"I don't think you should worry about it," Camille told him. "Being switched at birth really isn't that much different than being adopted. You were raised by people who love you and taught you their morals and standards. No matter who your real parents are: you are you."

"Thanks," Joe said, smiling gratefully at her. "I'm glad you think so but sometimes, I wonder," he confessed.

"What do you mean?" queried Camille curiously.

"When I lose my temper, I want to hit something," Joe explained. "When I get really angry, I spend hours at the gym."

"Do you hit people when you get angry?" Camille asked him, a bit worried.

"No," Joe replied. "At least, not yet. And I hope I never do. But I've never seen Frank or Dad lose it like I do."

"You don't hit anyone and you go to the gym to work out your anger," Camille summarized what Joe had told her. "Sounds like you control it pretty well."

"Yeah, but is that an "Assassin" thing or a "Hardy" thing?" Joe asked.

"It's a "Joe" thing," Camille answered at once. "You are who you are and there is no way to change that. You just have to accept yourself and move on."

Joe wasn't quite sure he followed but he was grateful she seemed to be trying to help. Camille just might be who he had been looking for. "I'll make sure you get inside and then go on home," Joe said, coming to a stop in her driveway. "Maybe your dad won't totally hate me after he sees you're all right."

"Good idea," Camille concurred, looking away from the front window of her home and turning back to Joe.. "Um... there's something I've kind of been wanting to do," she said. "Do you mind?"

After what she had just been through because of him he couldn't tell her he minded even if he knew what she had in mind so he just shook his head. Camille smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. Several minutes later, she pulled back. "That was better than I thought," she murmured. "I'll be looking forward to Thursday," she added, getting out of the car.

Grinning like an idiot, Joe watched her go to the door and open it. Her father stepped to the doorway, gave Joe a slight wave, then escorted his daughter inside. Joe put the car in reverse and backed out of the drive. Soon, he was on his way home.

Camille preceded her dad into the living room and scowled at the person she had seen looking out the front window moments before. "You shouldn't have been watching," she scolded him.

"He likes you," the man said, grinning.

"And eventually, he will love me," Camille added, nodding her agreement. "Just like you want him to do, Matt."


End file.
